


Holding Smoke

by litra



Series: Broken Mirrors Verse [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Archangel Gabriel (Supernatural), Castiel in the Bunker, Dean and Cas finally get together, Fix-It, Hell, Henry and Cas are friends, Jealous Dean Winchester, M/M, Men of Letters, Men of Letters Bunker, Pagan Gods, Purgatory, Rituals, everyone misses Gabriel, not always thinking things through, refrence to things earlier in the series, war in hell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-22
Updated: 2017-03-23
Packaged: 2018-03-14 14:58:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 27
Words: 43,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3415034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/litra/pseuds/litra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gabriel is now ruling heaven, he took Cas’s grace with him, and while the hunters are getting back on their feet, so are the demons. Abandon joins the party and Henry shows them the bunker and all that jazz.<br/>And of course Sam isn't willing to give up on Gabriel just after they worked everything out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Part three of the Broken Mirrors verse.  
> This will make way more sense if you've read the other parts but for a quick summery:
> 
> When Dean and Cas went to purgatory Sam found Gabriel. Sam and Gabe worked up a spell to get rid of the leviathan poison in the food and slowly fell in love. When Kevin called, Sam actually picked up the phone and they drove around for a while. They met up with Garth and put the hunter network back together with the help of Charlie. Meanwhile Kevin was having visions of Dean and Cas. They worked up a spell to get them out of purgatory but it too much magic and Gabriel had to tap into his angelic powers to hold the doorway open. 
> 
> Currently Gabriel is ruling Heaven, and everyone else is recovering.

Cas looked down at Dean. He was exhausted, but Sam and pretty much everyone else had said that sitting by Dean's bedside was the only thing he could do right now. Dean would want to see him when he woke. That was true at least, but he hated it all the same. Everything was so close to the surface and he needed Dean. Needed to talk to Dean. Needed to know that the most important person in his life was going to be alright and happy.

Dean had been asleep for three days now. Hardly surprising after what he'd been through. still Cas wanted to reach out and heal him so much.

Impossible. No longer an angel. He no longer had that power. At least he wasn't insane any more either. He had to keep reminding himself of the up sides. Sam and Kevin had both told him to hold onto the good things. To look on the bright side, look for the silver lining.

Dean was still alive.

Dean was healing. He had woken up long enough to take a few pills last night before falling asleep again.

Dean would be alright.

He would be here when Dean woke up.

It probably said something that Dean was his entire list of good things at the moment.

Cas set it out of his mind and kept his eyes on the hunter. They had all piled into the Impala and headed to the home of a woman who Sam trusted, after the ritual. It wasn’t a perfect solution but it served their needs, At least until he could think of something better.

Which he couldn't.

Focus on Dean. That at least was something he could do. Make sure Dean would be alright. Make sure he had whatever he needed when he woke and then when Dean was better they could come up with a proper plan.

Dean shifted in the bed and rolled onto his side, one hand slipping under the pillow in a gesture that might have been instinctual or might have been a response to an unfamiliar situation. Find a weapon in case he needed one, that was Dean.

"Dean?" Cas whispered the name in case the hunter was still sleeping, but the way his shoulders lost that tiny fraction of tension was a giveaway.

Dean started to roll over again, this time towards Cas. His eyes fluttered and he was clearly forcing himself into wakefulness. "Cas?" It came out as a mumble but Cas would know his name from those lips no matter how it was said.

"Easy," Cas replied. "You were, well not injured really but you were stressed quite a bit."

Dean got his eyes open, tried to lift his head and winced. He let it fall back to the pillows. He tried to speak but his voice was too scratchy. Cas reached for the waiting glass of water on the bedside table, and put the straw between Dean's lips. Dean drank slowly, Cas couldn't help but watch how his adam's apple bobbed up then down.

"Never felt like this because of stress before." Dean said after he'd leaned back down.

“What do you Remember?”

Dean considered that. “We got out of Purgatory. Gabriel was there.”

Cas nodded. “I was already unconscious so Sam will have to give you the details but from what he said. Gabriel ripped my Grace out of you and then returned to Heaven.”

Dean blinked up and Cas and slowly processed that.

“You alright?” He asked eventually.

Cas shrugged.

“Because I seem to remember something about Purgatory ripping you into pieces.”

“I --” Cas stopped, then looked down at his hands. “I don’t know.”

Dean waited. Cas was the Champion at the waiting game but Dean had a hunch he wanted to talk.

“This is my punishment. With my pieces in different realms there will be no damage, at least not for several centuries and the urge to bring them together is muted. Even more so because I appear to be human now. I even have a soul, or something close enough to count.” Cas glanced up through his lashes, biting his lip.”

Dean smiled. “Well, welcome to the human race then. You’re family are a bunch of dicks anyway.” That got Cas to roll his eyes.

“Sammy?” Dean asked.

“He’s here, as is Kevin, and another hunter, I believe his name is Garth, and a woman, Charlie. I’m not sure what to make of her though. She does not appear to be a hunter but she is quite knowledgable.”

“Sam pulled out all the stops, Nice. Remind me to ask him how he did it.” Dean closed his eyes and there was a smile still on his face when he drifted back to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

 

Sam was going through the motions again, which was stupid. No one was dead. He had his brother back, even if Dean was still recovering. Cas was sane again and Kevin and Charlie and Garth and… Gabriel may have been gone but he wasn’t really dead. He’d just gone back to heaven. He was an Archangel, It made sense, and after everything Cas had done in the war, they needed an archangel. Better Gabe then some other assclown to use Dean’s phrasing.

But he was still looking around and expecting to find Gabriel standing there with some piece of candy and that smile. A quick kiss at they passed. It wasn’t Dean he pictured riding in the car with anymore, and that wasn’t fair.

They’d only been traveling together for a few months. No matter how intense those months had been he shouldn’t have stolen Sam’s heart like that. He shouldn’t lay awake every night because he’d grown used to another body in his bed.

Sam shook his head and forced himself back on task; repainting the devil’s traps over the doors of Jody’s house.

Jody had kindly allowed them to stay with her, until Dean recovered but that had brought up problems of it’s own. There wasn’t enough space for five extra adults. Garth had taken off, back to his houseboat with an order to stay in touch. Charlie was all set to slip away as well, but she still didn’t want to risk running into another leviathan on her own.

So Sam had spent half the nights camped out in the remains of Bobby’s garage, trying to rebuild or shore up what he could. The spellwork on the perimeter was still intact so it was still safer than getting a hotel room.

He and Kevin had put wards up around Jody’s place in the early days of Dean’s recovery but without multiple layers of paint they’d only last so long.

Sam finished up and popped his back before moving on to the kitchen door.

Charlie was on her laptop at the kitchen table, the makings for sandwiches still laid out around her.

“Hey. I got three new hunters signed up this morning, you know anyone named Krissy Chambers?”

Sam grunted and looked up at the symbol over the door. This one looked alright at least for the moment but he should probably redo it anyway.

“Ahh, Sam? Hello, earth to Sam?

It took a moment for Sam to realize he hadn’t actually answered the question. “Ah oh, yeah I think so. Ask Dean if he’s up.”

Charlie raised an eyebrow and bit into her sandwich.

“What?”

She swallowed. “Really? You know you did that symbol first right?”

Sam looked down at his paint then up at the ceiling.

Charlie’s tone softened slightly. “What happened when you got Dean and Cas back? Whatever it is. I’ll listen.”

Sam pulled out one of the chairs and fell into it. With his elbows on the table he let his head fall into his hands. “I don’t know, I…” He took a slow breath. “I thought everything was happening like we planned.” He looked down at the wood of the table, drawing one finger along the grain.

“Walk me through it then? Maybe I’ll see something you don’t. Outsider’s perspective.”

Sam considered. Charlie already knew how they had put the word out on how to kill the leviathans. She knew about Kevin’s visions and how Dean and Cas had been trapped in Purgatory.

“I think something went wrong with the spell.”

“Like what? You got Dean and Cas out.”

“Gabriel, he… There are two sides to him, you know?” Charlie nodded for him to go on. “Well, he’s always kind of balanced between the two sides. He tried to tell me about the rules of the universe and how it was dangerous to go too far in either direction but I never really got it. I think. I think that’s what happened. Something went wrong with the spell and when we came through the gateway he was all archangel.”

Charlie thoughtfully chewed a mouthful of sandwich. “Well, that’s still half your boyfriend, right? What you think he won't come back?”

Sam looked up at the boyfriend comment. He knew he was going to hear it from Dean when he found out, but he wasn’t going to try to hide it. He loved Gabriel. That didn’t mean that his face wasn’t going to turn red.

“I don’t know. This time it’s different.”

“What’s different?” Kevin came into the kitchen and made a b-line for the bread, piling on cheese and roast beef.

Sam shook his head. “Nothing. I’m just rehashing things.”

“Well, rehash us a new home base. I’ve been having dreams filled with demon signs and I don’t like it.

Sam nodded absently. One step at a time.

 


	3. Chapter 3

“So,” Dean shifted in his seat at the kitchen table. He was mostly recovered but the two days he’d been out of bed had proved he got stiff if he sat still for too long. “I know Cas hasn’t really decided what he wants to do yet, but I figure I could take him into town and get him a tattoo. I’d be good for him to have even if he decides to become a librarian or pick up Jimmy’s life or whatever.”

Sam had been sitting staring at his laptop since before Dean had sat down. Dean watched him hit two keys then go back to his deep thoughts.

“What do you think?”

“Yeah, sure.”

Sam obviously wasn’t paying attention. Dean would have thought that he’d be a little more enthusiastic about him and Cas being back but nope. Apparently now that they weren’t missing in another dimension they had dropped on Sam’s list of priorities. Well Dean had bigger things to take care of.

“Okay then, see you later.”

 

<><><>

 

“—And then he just kind of grunted.”

“Perhaps he is simply distracted. There has been a lot happening.” Cas folded his borrowed shirt and settled into the tattoo artiest’s chair. Dean made a mental note to stop by the good will on the way back. Cas could use his own set of clothes. Not that he minded sharing, or that Cas looked bad. Cas looked good, great even, or as great as anyone could look in borrowed plaid, but after today he only had one clean shirt left.

“Yeah, maybe but it’s not like our lives are ever in the slow lane. We’re all here. We’re all safe. The world isn’t ending. What’s he got his panties in a twist for?”

Cas made a sympathetic humming sound. “Well, Kevin was telling me about Gabriel--”

“That’s another thing.” Dean broke in. “ We’re gone for what, three months? And he goes and hooks up with that dick? What the hell? I mean don’t get me wrong, the guy has style. The whole TV land thing would have been hilarious if I didn’t have to live through it. And you didn’t see the slow-dancing alien dude but trust me it was gold. I’d give the guy a pass, especially after he stood up to Lucifer like that but Sam saw him kill me over a hundred times. That’s not something you forget.”

The tattoo artiest, a young woman with black hair and a pierced lip, paused with her hand over Cas’s chest. “Look, I don’t mind you two talking but if you’re going to have a fight with your boyfriend, I have other customers.”

Cas shook his head and settled back. “No, Thank you for the concern but Sam is his brother not his intended.”

Dean slumped where he sat in the visitor’s chair next to Cas and covered his face with one hand, mumbling around his fingers. “No one says intended anymore.”

“I don’t give a damn if he’s fucking you, his brother, or the mailman; Just don’t start something. This may be a simple design but it’ll still take over half an hour and I’d rather not stop in the middle because you had a lover’s tiff.”

Dean shut up. He hoped the heat on his face was from the florescent light and not from the girl’s comments, but even his self delusion would only go so far. The fact was that he liked Cas. The first time he’d seen him, Dean had been struck by those eyes and the crazy sex hair. He’d told himself that Cas wasn’t human, he was a monster to be dealt with. Then he was an angel who was better then the rest of them but still had to report to the dick’s upstairs, and still not human. Then Cas had fallen for him, rebelled, started a war in heaven, all so he could have a normal life. He was pretty much beyond the whole non-human thing when he’d found out Cas had been lying to them. By the time they’d found out Cas wasn’t actually dead and insane, they’d been halfway to purgatory.

Cas reached over and grabbed Dean’s hand as the needle went in. There was an aborted flinch, before Cas forced himself still. Cas wasn’t used to the human type of pain, but he still braced his shoulders and stood his ground. That was part of what Dean loved about him.

Dean squeezed his hand back.

This was a new start for them. Cas was human now, which sucked but it also removed the single biggest obstacle Dean had left in his list of reasons not to act. Of course he still didn’t know what Cas saw him as. If Cas liked him as a friend or…

And dear god he was turning into a teenage girl.

Dean coughed loudly and took his hand back to run it through his hair. He was being ridiculous. It wasn’t like anyone could hear his thoughts, at least not now that Cas was….

Dean stood up and patted Cas on the shoulder, then took his hand back and stuffed it into his pocket.

“I’m going to just go get a soda or something. You good here?”

Cas nodded. Dean nodded back and headed for the door.

“No offense, but your friend is weird.” The tattoo girl said.

Cas nodded vaguely and settled in trying to ignore the pain.


	4. Chapter 4

Sam picked a spot on one of the rusted car frames and started setting up a line of cans.

Cas had gotten his tattoo a week ago which was apparently the length of time it took for Jody to get fed up with having so many house guests. She had ordered them all out so she could have some peace and quiet. With the list of options as short as it was, they had ended up at the burt remains of Bobby’s scrap yard.

Cas had been the one to suggest their activity. He wanted to learn to shoot.

“No way.” Dean had immediately responded.

“Why? I can already handle a blade and a bow. If I am going to join you on hunts I should know how to shoot.”

“You want to hunt?” Dean had asked at the same time Sam had said.

“Hunting is dangerous.”

“I am aware of the danger, but I have been a warrior of heaven for longer then both of you have been alive.”

“Well, yeah, but are you sure? I mean we could have Charlie set you up with an ID. You could have a normal life.” Dean hadn’t looked at Cas. He’d looked at the impala like it was the only real thing in the world.

“I know what I want to do Dean. I do not think I would be content with a normal life.”

So Sam was setting up cans while Dean walked Cas and Kevin through the proper stance. Charlie had begged off and disappeared into the old garage. Sam had had to fight the urge to stop her, the memory of torturing that leviathan still fresh in his mind. Sam set the last can in place anddouble checked that there was nothing near their impromptu shooting range that shouldn’t be damaged.

“Feet spread shoulder length apart. Don’t try anything fancy until you can hit what you aim at more often then not.” Dean modeled, then moved behind Cas to adjust his aim. Sam rolled his eyes and went to help Kevin without the extra subtext.

The sun slowly shifted down the sky. Cas showed a slow but steady improvement, underlined by a stubborn streak to rival Dean’s own. He refused to accept his own lack of skill and was determined to fix the situation no matter how long it took. Dean had already had to get more ammo from the trunk twice.

Kevin was a slower study. He had memorized the names of the parts when Sam showed him how to take the gun apart, but the actual shooting was erratic. He’d come close to the target one round then overcompensate the next.

Sam leaned over and braced Kevin’s arm. “Aim straight along the barrel. Don’t worry about getting off multiple shots, that will come later. Just line up each shot, there’s no rush.”

The sound of a door slamming came from the direction of the garage. Sam looked up expecting to see Charlie.

A flash of light whited out Sam’s vision, and he raised a hand too late. Then there was a man rolling across the gravel. Kevin cried out. A gun went off. Sam stepped forward putting himself between Kevin and any danger.Dean was trying to do the same for Cas, even as the angel switched out the gun for a knife; ruby’s knife.

The man came to a crouch with one hand on the ground and Sam got his first good look him. The man was dressed well in a blue suit that was now covered in dust, over what looked like blood. Apart from that he looked unassuming. The kind of man who worked in an office and had 2.5 kids and went to church. In a strange way the man reminded him of Cas back when they’d first met. Only Cas had always been something more and Sam could tell this guy wasn’t an angel, or anything like it.

“Which one of you is John Winchester?” The man asked. He looked between the four of them discarding Kevin almost immediately and Cas a moment later, his eyes dancing between Sam and Dean.

“Fuck.”

Dean brought his gun up, and his expression closed off. “Who wants to know?”

“Please, there’s no time. I need to speak to the head of the order, now which of you is John Winchester?”

Dean took another step forward. Cas knew him well enough to see the danger signs. The former angel mirrored Dean’s movements, bringing his own weapon up. It made Dean hesitate, made him remember that there were other people there. Sam motioned for Kevin to keep back and stepped up to complete Dean’s flanking maneuver.

“I’m Sam Winchester, That’s my brother Dean. John Winchester was our dad.”

The man looked taken aback, glancing between them. When he pulled himself together his frown only deepened. “Where is he? I need to speak with John.”

“Our dad’s dead.”

Cas stepped in before Dean’s outburst could go any further. “We’ve told you who we are. It’s only polite to do the same in return.”

For another moment the man couldn’t stop starring at Dean, then he pulled his eyes away, focusing on Cas. “Henry, My name is Henry Winchester. John is my son.”

None of them got to give that a proper answer because the shed door burst open again. This time the figure didn’t tumble out head over heels. She stepped delicately over the threshold, lifting the skirt of her blood-stained gown as if to avoid a puddle.

“Demon!” Cas shouted and both Dean and Sam responded without hesitation. Guns already out, they opened fire on the woman. The man, Henry, dived out of the way ducking behind one of the clunkers with Kevin.

The woman staggered back a half-step. Dean emptied his clip and reloaded. With her head down and bullet holes shredding the front of her dress, the woman started laughing. She looked up, black eyes glittering, and raised a hand.

Sam’s gun clicked empty. He ducked down beside Kevin and the newcomer, just as the air turned to needles, shooting through hte space he’d been. Dean wasn’t as lucky, he tried to stand his ground before Cas dragged him to the ground. Blood was dripping down Dean’s arms as he tried to push himself back up.

Then the demon stepped forward. She pinned Dean and Cas to the ground with one idle hand as she looked towards where Sam, Kevin and Henry hid.

“Oh, Henry. Don’t you know it’s not polite to leave a lady waiting?”

“Friend of yours?” Sam asked as he reloaded.

“Not anymore.” He sounded truly regretful about it, which Sam didn’t have time to be surprised at.

“Come now boys,” She made another gesture and the car rattled then settled back into place. She frowned, flexed her fingers, then repeated the gesture. If the windows of the clunker hadn’t already been blown out, they would have shattered. The metal screeched and twisted around them, reaching out to pin them down and claw them apart.

Sam grabbed the jacket next to him and hauled on it. He didn’t know if it was Kevin or Henry and at that point it didn’t matter. This was more power then almost any demon they had ever faced, and the woman was tossing it around without hex bags or incantations. Without a stroke of luck they were screwed.

Light. White and golden and pure. Sam’s chest ached even as he forced his eyes closed, a part of him reaching out for a presence he knew as well as his own skin. He knew before he opened his eyes that Gabriel would be standing there in front of him. The familiar golden-haired figure stood brandishing the sword of an archangel radiating glory and grace.

“Run back to the abyss, hell-knight. These humans are under my protection.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I can't remember if I've said, but I'm trying to post a chapter of either this or Between the Stars every week. Fridays seem to be the best posting day for me so keep an eye out.
> 
> Also if anyone has interest in Beta-reading this (or Between the Stars for that matter) Shout out. Leave me a comment or message me on tumblr: fangirl-litra.tumblr.com  
> All my chapters are currently going up without a beta because I am super lazy with editing.


	5. Chapter 5

The demon tipped back her head and laughed. “Under your protection? You know I’m a Knight of Hell and still plan on standing against me? You’re either a fool or you have a death wish.”

Gabriel only lifted his sword, but in the sky overhead black clouds covered the evening blue.

The demon’s smile faltered. Her eyes narrowed briefly, then widened again. “Impossible, the host were sworn to not interfere until the end of days.”

“Where have you been? The apocalypse was like three years ago.” Dean was bloody, and breathing hard but he was pushing himself back to his feet now that the demon’s attention had wavered.

The woman tossed her hair and leveled her gaze on Gabriel. “Well then, that should make this more interesting.” She raised a hand.

Sam caught Dean’s eye and they screamed in unison. “Close Your Eyes!”

 

<><><>

 

Cas knew intellectually that the grace of another angel could damage him, but of all the things he had been trained for over countless millennia, that was not one of them. He’d been exposed to the grace of his siblings a plethora of times in battle and in such a situation it had always served to unify and strengthen the garrison as a whole. So when Dean shouted and pulled him down, Cas hesitated.

Cas’ eyes were still open when Gabriel unleashed his power.

It hurt. It was more than blinding, it was deafening and it rolled over his skin activating every nerve ending, hot and cold, pressure and pain all at the same time. The only thing he could possibly compare it to was the slow loss of his grace during the apocalypse. Except when he got to that point where he couldn’t even scream, where Gabriel’s wings were cutting into his psyche, the world opened up around him. Something clicked into place and he could See.

Gabriel took the high ground, a classic move that the demon easily anticipated. Holy light fell down like rain. The demon went to it’s knees, the woman it was riding nearly collapsed as it shrank back inside the vessel.  Then the demon was chanting something and the earth cracked open around it. Hellfire burst forth, lashing at the air and creating billows of cloying black smoke. Another word from the demon and the smoke took on a life of it’s own. It bubbled up, catching the light and holding it, smothering it.

The demon reached into one of the open wells of hellfire and came out with a sword that was almost half as long as she was tall. It glowed red-hot and the smell of burnt meat matched the smell of brimstone.

She said two harsh words and Cas was slammed down into the gravel as the local gravity tripled. Despite his rank Gabriel wasn’t uneffected. They were on the physical plain and even archangels had to obey the physical rules.

Gabriel landed hard, but at least he was still on his feet. He set his jaw and drew out his own angel blade. Cas knew that Gabriel would be unable to use most of his powers for fear of hurting the humans in the area.

 

The demon sneared and stepped forward, cocky. “You know I thought when I finally faced an Archangel you’d put up more of a fight.”

Gabriel twirled his blade around so it lay against the flat of his arm. “Say that when you’ve taken my head.” His eyes were shining. Cas blinked, because that wasn’t an angelic expression. Then Gabriel’s power rippled out of him and he stepped forward. His afterimages split away until Cas couldn’t tell where the real figure was. The demon swung at the first one, only for her sword to pass through mist. A second Gabriel slipped around to her right and tried for a slash across her shoulder. She elbowed it in the face and it too vanished, but the cut across her arm remained.

Three more Gabriel copies attacked all at once. The demon spun locking her blade with one as she clawed at the air, sending smoke into the face of the second. The third dodged between them and came up under her guard, taking the brunt of her flaming sword in order to twist her arm into a lock.

The demon pushed herself into the hold. suddenly it was a test of strength not skill and while their vessels were fairly matched, the demon had more leverage. Gabriel brought out his wings again, and this time Cas did close his eyes.

The air rippled with power. Cas could only guess at the tactics, even for his previous power levels this was above and beyond.

Suddenly the smoke around him started boiling him, more fire and he couldn't breathe. A hand found his, and Cas knew it belonged to Dean without looking. He tried to open his mouth even though he didn’t know what he would say, but when he tried to breath in he choked. The thought came unbidden, please God.

A silent prayer. Maybe...

Cas wrapped his hands around Dean’s and prayed, lending what little power he could to Gabriel. Beside him Dean was trying to choke out an exorcism. It wasn’t much but it was all they could do when they were in so far over their heads. It was a humbling experience.

Cas dared to open his eyes again after a minute and could only see light and shadow, slashing at each other like they had since the beginning of all things.

Thunder cracked overhead. Then a drop of what felt like ice hit the back of Cas’ hand. Rain. It was inevitable with so much heat and magic on the ground, electrical storms were one of the classic demon signs for a reason. Except Gabriel was the archangel of Water among other things.

A word of enochian opened the skies and the demon screamed as she recognised the trap. Suddenly Cas was a lot less heavy. He started to push himself up and noted that Dean ( and presumably everyone else ) still had his eyes closed.

The rain was cutting through the smoke, destroying the phantoms within. The old adage was once again proved true: Evil may be faster, but Good was stronger.

The demon rolled one wrist, spinning her blade through the air. “Well, guess we’ll have to call that round one.”

Cas caught the barest hint of a sneer before she stabbed the sword back into the earth. Fire leapt up again, sending a tremor through the ground, then both it and she was gone.

  
  
  


<><><>

 

When the demon first started calling up power Sam yanked down Henry and Kevin, and this time he didn’t come back up. There was thunder and the ringing of bells, the snarling of ancient beasts and the rattling of stones deep in the earth. Even with his eyes closed Sam saw flashes of white and red and some deep purple that was almost the absence of light altogether.  He couldn’t move, pinned to the earth, could barely think. A single almost prayer kept rippling through his mind.

“Please, Please, Gabriel. Dean and Cas safe. All safe please, Gabriel, Please.”

A wind whipped up, cutting through the earth, the cars and buildings. For a moment Sam thought he felt blood on his skin; The kind of cold tingling that meant his body hadn’t realized it was broken yet. Then before he could open his eyes it was gone, the feeling of warm water replacing it.

Then a different kind of cold fell over him, rain.

Sam opened his eyes, and looked up at a sky that couldn’t seem to make up it’s mind. Dark storm clouds gave way to blue. The last of the rain created dancing arcs of color. Henry shifted away from Sam, taking stock. On Sam’s other side Kevin was doing something similar, but with more gasping and hands that were still shaking. Sam caught himself rubbing the tattoo on his chest.

Gabriel had come to protect them. Well, to protect Kevin, but maybe….

Sam levered himself up enough to see over the car.

Gabriel still stood there, staring at the scorched earth. After another moment of silent brooding, the angel lifted his gaze and looked over the damage. If any of the cars had been salvageable before, they weren’t now. The gurage was still standing but one whole wall had been scorched leaving jagged patterns on the corrugated metal. The impala was miraculously mostly intact. There were scratches over the side of her that had been closer to the fight and her paint job was a mess but at a glance it looked like she’d still be able to run.

Gabriel held out a hand palm down, fingers spread over the spot that the demon had vanished. He spoke a quick series of words in enochian. By the time he had finished Sam had scrambled around the car they’d used as a barricade.

“Gabriel.” Sam didn’t know what he was going to say. He wanted to plead with him to come back, to come home. He wanted to ask why. He wanted to kiss him, and see if he still tasted like cheap cherry candy. Wound around all that was the fear that his Gabriel was gone, that this was an echo, the power without the person.

“Sammich.” Gabriel’s voice was bland, his expression as serine and hard as marble. It was an acknowledgment and a dismissal as he turned away. Gabriel vanished with a flutter of wings rather than the expected snap of his fingers.

None of it stopped Sam’s throat from closing up, a vise wrapping around his chest. Those stupid nicknames.

“Hey, you okay?” Dean grabbed his shoulder. He confirmed that Kevin and Henry weren’t bleeding, then spotted his car. “Oh, baby what did they do to you.”

Henry and Kevin joined Cas by Sam They were visibly shaken, but uninjured.   

“That was.” Henry’s voice faltered. He looked at the damage. “Is it safe to stay here?”

Cas nodded. He was looking up at the sky as if he could see more then the dispersing clouds. “Yes, Gabriel laid a blessing on this place. The demon won't be able to return.”

“Gabriel, An Archangel.” Henry seemed to be trying to tell if Cas was serious. “Well, that would explain why he, it, could fight off a Knight of Hell. How on earth were you able to get an archangel on your side?”

“Me, that’s… it’s because of me.” Kevin was speaking around deep gasping breaths.

Sam pulled himself back to the moment. “We’ll tell you what we know, but I’d like to hear how you appeared out of a glowing door with a demon on you heals first.”

Henry nodded. “fair enough.”

The garage door creaked as Charlie poked her head out. She pulled out an earbud and looked around. “Whoa, who threw a party without me?”

It was enough to finally break the tension. Kevin started to laugh. Sam let his shoulders ease and a smile crept up on him. Cas started to explain.

Sam looked back up at the sky. Gabriel was still in there. He had research to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> see, this is what happens when I try to set posting dates. I get writers block and I get sick and life happens, *sigh* I'm still trying to hit the ever week thing but given how hard this chapter was ... who knows.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey look, a new chapter! Sorry it took so long. There were a lot of things I wanted to put in here and then the sections ended up really short. This was two chapters in the outline but the pacing was weird. I'm still not sure about it but if I keep trying to edit it'll never get posted.

It was decided that they would get dinner at the local diner partially to avoid bringing Henry back to Jody’s for a little longer and partially because Dean still didn’t trust Henry.  Castiel had sat, tucked between Dean and Kevin in the big circular booth and eaten the burger Dean had ordered for him without joining in on the conversation.

Henry had a lot of questions, and a lot of the answers had created even more. When they were mostly finished Charlie had pulled out her laptop and started googling names. After that Henry had grown quiet. Sam and Dean had worked out a plan, and they had all returned to Jody’s a more solemn group then they had started.

 

With an extra person they had shuffled beds again and Cas had ended up sharing with Dean. He didn’t mind, it had been a comfort in some ways,having Dean close enough to touch. That didn’t mean he found it any easier to get to sleep.

At one in the morning Cas had slipped out from under Dean’s arm and padded on socked feet into the kitchen. There was a streetlight outside the window and it cast enough light to show that he wasn’t the only one who found the night disquieting. Henry moved to stand, but Cas waved a hand for him to sit. He got a glass out of the cupboard and filled it at the sink. Cas had nearly emptied his glass before Henry spoke.

“You’re really a fallen angel?”

“Yes.” Cas refilled his glass and sat down across the table from Henry. The streetlamp painted a yellow stripe on the table between them. “I was Castiel the angel of thursday. Now I’m just Cas.”

“I’m sorry.”

Cas shook his head “It’s what I chose. Sam and Dean have been very kind. They’re like my family.” Cas let his head fall to one side in that old familiar gesture.  “They care about family very much. Give them a bit of time.”

Henry huffed out a breath. “I was going to be one of the wise. Now I feel like I know nothing at all. I can barely understand how to work a telephone, computers can be carried around and things like that,” He waved at the microwave. “Are completely beyond me.” His hands opened and closed on the table. “I met my grandsons today and instead of being able to share my wisdom I feel like I’m the novice.”

“If it helps.” Cas offered. “I don’t know how to work the microwave either.” Cas looked down at his glass of water. “Sam and Dean are two extraordinary men. They have saved this world time and again. Most days I’m more of a burden than an asset but they have encouraged me to stay. I know that when they need me I’ll be here.”

“Faith?”

“Faith is not something exclusive to humans. And even if it were, that’s what I am now. I believe you are here because this is where you need to be at this time.”

Henry shook his head but there was a smile on his face. “One day at a time?”

“It’s worked so far.”

“Do you think I should go back?” Cas let his head fall sideways again, and raised an eyebrow. “Go back to my own time? Change everything? If I actually raised my son, it could…” Henry trailed off, one hand trying to grasp something ethereal.

Cas considered. He took a deep breath, then shook his head. “I don’t know. Terrible things have happened to them, and me, but the world, I think the world as a whole is better for it. Dean told me that a djinn once captured him, and his fantasy was a world where his mother hadn’t died. He was able to break out of it because he chose to put his own happiness and welfare behind those of the people he saved. It’s your choice, that’s what we fought for after all.”

Henry was watching him with a wide-eyed awe. “For all my training, I….” He shook his head. “I’d like to hear that story, before I go.”

“I’ll lend you my gospels, as long as you promise not to show them to Dean.”  

“Deal.”

Cas stood and moved to put his glass in the sink. For all his pretty words he still felt as lost as he had wandering in purgatory. He wished Henry a good night and went to crawl back into Dean’s arms.

 

<><><>

 

It took a few hours to drive down to Lebanon. Cas and Kevin stayed behind because there was only so much room in the Impala and they might need Charlie’s hacking skills.

It turned out that the macguffin Henry had stolen from the past was a key. One of the last Men of Letters, Larry, had apparently been blinded but not actually killed. Henry had knelt by his chair and asked for forgiveness. Larry had said that there was nothing to forgive. Henry had sat back stunned when Larry had mentioned the bunker. After that he hadn’t let the box out of his sight. The coordinates they’d been given weren’t anything special, but Henry acted like he’d found the map to El Dorado, Atlantis and Shangrila all rolled into one.

“Okay spill.” Charlie said when they were back in the car.

Sam plugged the coordinates into his phone. They were actually really close by, which made sense if Larry had been trying to guard whatever it was. Sam gave Dean the directions then turned around to look at where Henry was sitting in the back seat.

Henry took a deep breath.

“There are rumors in any organization and when the organization deals in secrets, well. The Men of Letters group that I belonged to were the head chapter for the United States but it wasn’t our main headquarters. Whenever we found something too dangerous, it would get packed up and sent off somewhere secret. A storehouse of all the knowledge the Men of Letters had ever gathered and all the weapons we amassed.”

Dean turned down a gravel road. Between grumbling about his baby’s suspension and her undercarriage he asked. “And you think this is it?”

Then the road turned and a green hill rose up before them. There was an iron door set back into the hillside. Dean let the impala crunch to a stop, and the four of them opened their doors.

“I guess we’ll find out.”

  
  


<><><>

 

Sam stood in the doorway to the bunker’s library and said a silent thank you to whoever might be listening

Dean had already started exploring, once Henry had assured him they weren’t going to trip any traps since they’d entered with the key. Sam was betting that Dean would get into trouble anyway, the way he was sticking his nose into everything. Charlie had plugged her laptop into the Bunker’s computer and was busy programming her way around the antiquated technology. So that left Sam to contact Kevin and Cas.

“Dean’s already calling it the batcave.”

On the other end of the line Cas hummed as if he knew what that was. “Are you sure we should join you. I’m sure Jody would be happy to have her house back but—“

“I’m sure Cas. You’re family and Kevin at least should probably camp out here. As far as we know, Crowley is still after him, and well, the tablet’s would fit right in with this collection.” Sam ran a hand over the stem of a book. The library was everything he could have asked for, and he’d only scratched the surface.

“Of course. We’ll settle everything here then.”

“Great, one of us will drive over tomorrow to pick you up.”

Sam knew that would most likely end up being him. They hadn’t faced up a license for Henry yet and Dean may try to deny the geekfest he was currently having but Sam knew his brother better than that. Plus it wasn’t like he had a real reason for doing research. Not one that dean would understand anyway.

It was a longshot at best, but after seeing Gabriel again, Sam knew he had to try to get him back. The man he loved was still in there, he had to be. Sam pulled a book from the shelf. It was handwritten and had a star of david on the front. Sam loaded up his arms with anything he thought might be useful and brought the books over to the table. He started to flip through the first one.

Dean abruptly shook Sam shoulder. “Stop learning things. Food time.” Sam reached for the book a second too late and Dean snapped it shut.

“You lost my place.”

Dean just rolled his eyes and shoved a plate at Sam. “You’ve been buried in these books all day. Take a break.”

Sam checked his watch. Dean was right, it was getting late. More then enough time for someone to have gone to fetch the pizza that was now sitting in front of him. Sam hadn’t learned anything that would help him. Not that he had expected too, he knew this would be a long term project, but still.

“Okay, I’ll eat. Can I have my book back?”

Dean rolled his eyes, but put the book back on the table.

 

<><><>

 

“Cas?” Henry lightly touched his shoulder.

Cas looked up from the old laptop Charlie had lent him. It had been decided that he needed a practical knowledge of the human world as well as the skills of a hunter, or at least that was how he had translated charlie’s sputtering and gestures when the topic of movies had come up.

Aparently the Princess Bride was mandatory. So far he found it interesting. They had just encountered the rodents of unusual size. Castiel wasn’t sure if they had actually trained a nutria or if they had used what Dean would call movie magic. in either case he hoped they got out of the swamp alive

“I don’t mean to be rude but I feel I have to ask.” Cas wasn’t sure what was considered rude these days any more than Henry so he just nodded. “Is Sam always so…”

Together they turned to look down the long table. Sam was entrenched there with a pile of books, reading as if nothing else in the world existed. He’d been that way for the past week. At least once a day Dean would pull him out of it to eat or shower, but mostly they all left him to his work.

“Sam has always been a highly driven individual, but I admit I have not been present during the research phase of most hunts.”

Henry nodded faintly.

Cas was growing to like Henry. He felt like he was on even footing with the other man, since they were both out of their element. Everyone was more than willing to help fill in the gaps in his knowledge when he asked but sometimes he felt like they shouldn’t have to.

Dean came in. He checked on Sam without trying to dislodge him and then noticed them watching. Dean still seemed wary of Henry, no matter what the rest of them said. Henry ducked his head, then turned away, muttering a thank you as he went. Dean took his place beside Cas’s chair a moment later.

“Hey Cas.” he seemed at a loss for what to say next, until he noticed the paused movie. “Who turned you onto the princess bride?”

“Charlie recommend it.”

“Good for her. She recommend anything else?”

“Lord of the Rings, Star Wars, Casablanca, I think she was going to make a list.”

Dean snorted. “Forget Casablanca, I’m making you watch Mission Impossible. Come on, this calls for popcorn.”

Cas let Dean pull him up and sling an arm around him. It felt good, except... “But Dean, I haven’t finished the Princess Bride.”

Dean glossed over his protest. In the end they brought the laptop into Dean’s room. they finished the movie and started a second one. Cas wasn’t sure he understood the plot, but Dean ended up falling asleep on his shoulder so he couldn’t ask about it. Cas found he didn’t mind.

 

<><><>

 

Three weeks after they moved into the bunker Charlie managed to get the phones hooked up to the hunter network; giving everyone other than Sam something to do.

They were all good at research. Kevin complained about it but was meticulous with his notes and had a near perfect memory for obscure facts. Henry was surprisingly good at pretending to be the FBI and the CDC so he ended up on phone duty most of the time. Hunts started to come in. Dean provided backup where he could, and Cas insisted on coming along until it became second nature. Even without his angel Mojo Cas knew more spells and lore than the rest of them, so Dean couldn’t really complain even if he wanted to.

And that was the thing. There were reasons to keep Cas on the sidelines, at least for the time being. He was still terrible at interviews. He could pull off the strong silent persona, or a theology nerd, but that was about it. Dean just kept ignoring the logic of it, trusting his gut instead.

Cas was getting better. Every once in a while he’d do something so completely normal, and Dean would act like the crazy one; staring at Cas as he accepted his change or watched the coffee machine. One day he’d spent five minutes going through all of his varied pockets before realizing his phone was on the nightstand. Dean hadn’t been able to stop smiling until a ghost tossed him into a wall.

It isn’t until they go out for beers after the salt and burn that Dean realizes what he’s doing, and then only because Cas mentions it.

They’re at a table near the back. The third round of bottles was on the table and the waitress came to check if they wanted round four. Dean waved her off and told her to close up the tab for the night. Cas gave him a sideways look then bent down over the remains of his drink. Dean’s been seeing that expression often enough to know Cas is confused about something.

“What?” Cas looked up but hesitated. “Just ask.”

“I thought,” He shook his head. “I thought she was flirting with you, or possibly both of us, but I must have been misreading things again. Physical communication is harder than I thought it’d be.” He gave the beers a suspicious look.

Dean is just drunk enough to think. I’ll show you physical communication. Then he rewinds the night and relizes that yeah she’d been checking on them a lot more than she needed to, and that last time she’d leaned over him so he’d had a really great view. Normally he’d be all over that, but tonight he’d… what?

It wasn’t that he wasn’t in the mood. Dean was surprised to realize he hadn’t gotten laid since before purgatory. It was possibly his longest dry spell since he’d lost his virginity.  He should have been flirting up a storm, or at the very least asking for the girl’s number. Then dean looked back as Cas. The other man was picking at the label on his beer, running his thumb over an imperfection in the glass.

“Fuck.”

Cass glanced up again. “Is something wrong Dean?”

The sound of his name in Cas’s low rumble made something in his chest tighten, it was comfortable, familiar, and somehow he’d never noticed it before. Belatedly he shook his head. Dean tried to say something, but couldn’t think of anything. Then the waitress was back and he fumbled through the niceties, just to have something to do.

They were only four hours away from the bunker. A part of him was tempted to make the drive, even if they would get in, in the early hours of the morning. Driving helped him clear his head, but he’d been drinking and they already had a room.

They headed back to their motel. Cas disappeared into the bathroom, then came back out in boxers and an old t-shirt from the batch that Dean had given him back before they had taken him shopping. That comfortable heat seeped into him again. Cas fell asleep as soon as he curled up under his blankets.

Dean sat awake on his own bed for a long time.

When they got back to the bunker then next day, Dean was ready to take a shower and eat some food that didn’t come out of a gas station market. He tromped down the stairs and into the library, then stopped when he saw Sam’s abandoned pile of books and the desperate look on Kevin’s face.

“Where’s Sam?” Cas asked from behind Dean’s left shoulder.

Kevin’s answer was everything Kevin had expected and feared.

“He’s gone.”

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

“What do you mean, gone?!” Dean tried not to let it turn into a shout, but he was already on his last nerve.

Kevin waved a hand over the pile of books. “He was here last night, and then he wasn’t here when we got up.”

“None of us expected it.” Henry added. He flipped through a few pages of one of the books, then picked up a second and read the etching on the spine. “I had the extra phone last night and there were no calls so I assume he must have found whatever he was looking for.”

Dean wanted to shoot something, or punch something or possibly tear something apart with his teeth. Sam should know better then to run off without backup; which meant he’d done it on purpose. The only reason he would have done that is if he knew Dean wouldn’t approve.

Dean ripped his phone out of his pocket and punched in Sam’s number. There was no surprise when it went straight to voicemail. Dean growled and tried for Sam’s second cell, then the next. None of them were working. Kevin and Henry were both watching him with trepidation. Dean knew his knuckles were probably white around his cell and his expression murderous.

The hand on his arm came as a complete shock. Cas turned him by his shoulders until he had no choice but to focus on the fallen angel.

“Dean, we will find him.” He turned to the others without breaking eye contact. “Can you figure out what he found?”

Kevin and Henry exchanged a look. Kevin didn’t seem convinced but Henry nodded firmly.

“Good. Dean, you need to be ready when they work out what Sam is planning. Right now the best thing you can do is take a shower and eat something.”

Dean stared into Cas’s infinite blue eyes and forced his anger back down. Cas was right. Sam had been the last of his family, the only one he could trust, for so long that he still had a hard time wrapping his head around how that was no longer the case. Cas was here. Cas would help him find Sam. Cas would keep him grounded until he had a target that he could beat into the ground.

“Okay.” Dean sucked in air through his teeth. “Okay.” he looked over at the others, who were both carefully studying the books, but Cas pulled him back in.

With the hand still on Dean’s shoulder, Cas guided him towards the bedrooms. He forcefully took Dean’s bag when they reached the laundry. Cas gave Dean one last shove in the direction of the showers and went to start the wash.

They’d only gone on a few hunts together but it was already a familiar routine: showers laundry, cleaning the weapons, food, sleep. Cas knew the drill and was forcing Dean to follow the script.

Dean let the hot water pour over him and wondered what he’d be doing if Cas hadn’t stepped in. Shouting at someone, probably. He didn’t know what he’d do without him; which was why the previous night’s revelation drifted back into his mind.

He loved Cas.

That in itself wasn’t new. He’d admitted that he loved Cas, at least to himself, somewhere near the end of the apocalypse. But that was different. He loved Cas like he loved Sam. Like he loved Charlie or Bobbie. Sex had never entered into the equation.

He’d given up on loving the people he slept with a long time ago… back with Cassie. Even Lisa hadn’t really changed that. He’d been too fucked up in the beginning and later he’d been too grateful, and too terrified of screwing it all up.

Cas was different though, Cas was always different. Cas had seen him at his best and at his worst. Cas had seen all the horrors right there beside him. Cas was as screwed up as he was in his own way. Cas was his best friend and was growing into as much of a partner as Sam had ever been. Dean would never be able to screw it up enough to make Cas turn his back on him.

If all that wasn’t enough, since they’d gotten out of purgatory the bond between them had grown even stronger. Cas was living in his world, experiencing humanity like he never really had before, and Dean…. It had only been for a few hours but Dean had been an angel. He had heard the holy songs and felt the calling, the drive to obey. He’d had that bright, cold light inside him and even now he couldn’t describe how he felt about that. But Cas knew, he understood.

And he loved him.

For once in his life Dean was in love with someone and if felt right. It felt like the easiest thing in the world. Not a single bit of that, or even all of it together made him consider Cas and sex together. Which led him back around to what he’d realized the night before.

He’d rather have Cas then sex..

Oh, he loved sex, but if Lucifer or God or Death himself showed up to give Dean an ultimatum: no sex for the rest of his life or lose Cas as a friend? He’d choose Cas. He wouldn’t even have to think about it… and that was a very scary thought.

Dean reached for the body lotion and started to slick himself up just to push it out of his head. He locked up thoughts of Sam and Cas in the box where he kept all the other things he refused to acknowledge. Instead he riffled through his mental inventory of busty asian beauties. January of 2005 had been particularly memorable.

Dean could picture it. She’d be just a little bit shy but also enthusiastic. She’d kiss with a hint of a bite and press herself against him. He could almost feel himself cupping her breast, rolling his thumb around the nipple before sliding it up to her neck, pulling her in.

His hand started stripping his cock in earnest.

He’d tangle his hand in her dark hair and mess it all up, and she’d moan and gasp against his skin. Dean imagined reaching down and cupping her ass with his other hand. Imagined it was her hand on his cock.

It was good. He needed this and he was so close, but it just wasn’t there. He closed his eyes and turned his face into the water, panting. “Come on, come on.” He spread his legs a bit wider, leaning against the wall with his free arm.

“Damn it.” Dean snarled and changed fantasies. This time it was a perky little brunette. She’d been the first girl to ever rim him back before he’d realized he was bi and that ass was amazing. He toyed with the head of his cock, while his other hand gathered lather and dipped down behind his balls.

He normally didn’t bottom. He was too impatient for it, even when he had the time. He certainly didn’t have the time just now, but he didn’t need to stretch himself all the way.

The perky brunette in his mind looked up at him from and reached for his dick. She licked up the length, and Yeah. That was better. He was so close. She swallowed him down, his hand frantically milking himself. Then she looked up with those blue, blue eyes and he was done.

 

It wasn’t until he was out of the shower, clothed and headed back to the library that he remembered the girl had had hazel eyes, not blue. Then charlie had forced a cup of coffee and a sandwich into his hands, and he’d forgotten again.

 

It took four hours to put together what Sam’s plan was.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, it has been way longer then it should have been since I last posted a chapter for this... The good news is that since Between the Stars is finished, this will be a higher priority. That and I really like the next chapter so it'll be easy to write. :)


	8. Chapter 8

Sam had used up four cans of spray paint and two full bags of rock salt. The projection spell would leave his body basically helpless while his astral form performed the summoning. normally it would take a dozen years or more to achieve the mental clarity necessary but Sam wasn’t your average student of magic and he had a few tricks that he was fairly sure no one else had tried.

The dangerous bit wasn’t even the summoning itself. If he did it right the spell would tap into his soul. Unfortunately what he was doing would be visible to people and creatures who knew about such things. Any demons in the area would get a big neon sign telling them exactly where he was.

Hence the symbols and salt.

Unfortunately the building he was camped out in wasn’t the most sturdy of structures. He had needed something that resonated with the being he wanted to call, and Kali was kind of particular. The slaughterhouse Sam had found had been gutted by fire and left charred and half open to the elements.

As a final layer of defence he laid down a ring of holy oil around the spot he’d chosen. He didn’t set it alight until he’d finished slicing open his palm and drawing the arabic and hindu symbols on the worn concrete of the building’s foundation.

There was a small chance that Kali wouldn’t like the holy fire but Sam wasn’t overly worried. She was a being of fire and last time she’d held little but contempt for the angels. She might have been the best chance to get Gabriel back but Loki was a different matter.

Sam lit the incense and the holy oil with the same match and settled in cross-legged to meditate. The smoke was mixed with african dream root and he willingly gave himself to the sensation of falling. For a moment it seemed as if nothing had happened, then red light sparked up from the symbols he’d drawn.

 

\-------

 

As the symbols grew brighter the rest of the world faded away and Sam knew that at least one part of the spell was working.

Phantom sensations raced over his skin, wind and fire and grit. it felt like he was being cut by a thousand thin obsidian blades, and that was before the mind behind the pain turned in his direction.

Sam forced himself to focus and the world he knew fell away, replaced by a ruined and blackened landscape. A desert with the skeletons of buildings casting harsh lines over cracked and brittle earth. The sky was black and empty of stars. It wasn’t night because the sun still shone a sickly red but it was too distant and the light it cast created a raw kind of twilight.

“Kali!” he shouted into the black or a desolate post-apocalyptic landscape. “Kali, destroyer, I summon you. You who is the end of the all things and the rebirth of the stars that watch over nirvana, I name you, Kali!” By the end his form was flickering in and out, barely more substantial than a ghost even in his mindscape.

A red sun flared overhead, sending out streamers of fire into the black and casting spots over his eyes. Sam waited another beat but the only sound was the roar of flames and the grinding of bones stirred up by a sharp wind.

“You owe me!” He cast the words into the wind like the last desperate weapon that he hoped it was.

Without warning all sound cut off. Sam blinked in the sudden stillness and only realized Kali had actually answered when He saw a pair of elegant black heels. He started to look up, then Kali clawed at his head forcing him to his feet with as little effort as he might use to pick up a dropped pen. If Sam’d been any shorter he’d have been dangling off the ground.

“I let you go and have not made my hold over you fealt. I have been gracious, and yet you ask for more. Perhaps I should pay for your insolence by trapping you here in this hell of your own imagining.”

“I can’t stop you.” Sam gasped out. “But please hear me out. For Loki.”

Kali glared at him for several long seconds before dropping him to the ground in a heap. “You think you can speak of the trickster? Well if nothing else this should be entertaining.”

Sam had to swallow the lump in his throat, but he’d come this far no turning back now. “I can speak for him, because I’m his.” Sam fumbled open the top few buttons of his flannel and tugged down his undershirt to show his tattoo. Kali’s eyes narrowed and Sam caught the faint smell of smoke.

“It is his, but it is corrupted.” The goddess stepped forward and put one high heeled foot on Sam’s chest. “What has happened to Loki. I know you didn’t carry his mark when I took your blood. Has he reincarnated? I know Ganesh has not, and I very much doubt the others have.” Her voice wavered between threat and concern.

Sam didn’t try to move. “He didn’t die. It was a trick.”

Kali smiled thinly. “Of course it was. And you found him I supose?”

“Yes. He was weakened. I wanted to help.”

Kali tilted her head to one side and her dark hair poured down off her shoulder. “You made of yourself an offering? After denying even Lucifer so long?”

“It was different this time.” Sam knew Kali could probably read him like a book, so he didn’t try to hide his emotions. The flush arousal, the soft warmth of just knowing someone was there, the joy that Gabriel had so easily sparked, and more recently, the sorrow of his loss and his determination to get him back.

Kali signed out a short breath. “Mortals, always so dramatic.” She took her foot off his chest and turned walking a few steps away. “Speak, I will hear Loki’s message.”

Sam took his time pushing himself to his feet. “It’s not actually a message from him. I’m trying to get him back.”

The goddess glanced back at him over her shoulder. “You speak as if he has been taken, but Thor is busy ruling the Asear in his father’s stead and Baldor has yet to claim a new host. I can think of no other with enough of a personal grudge to take such a risk.”

“It was heaven.” Sam knew his voice sounded dead, but if he let out any of what was boiling inside of him, he didn’t know if he’d make it through this.

Kali turned away again. “Ahh, I see. I take it he was discovered then?”

“You knew?” The surprise managed to pull Sam back to the present.

“I bore him a child once. How could I not? I was not the only one, Frigga, I suspect, perhaps others. He did not put himself above us, so I kept the secret. Tell me how his brethren came to know of him?”

Sam laid out the story in plain words, again hiding nothing.

“Foolish,” Kali said at last. “He always did care more deeply than was wise.” She spun on her heel, and looked down her nose at Sam. “Why summon me then? I would assume you did not simply wish to relay this news.”

"I want to resurrect Loki. Everything I’ve read said that gods can’t really die as long as people still believe in them. If I can--”

“It won’t be the same man.” Kali interrupted him gently.

“It will if I can summon Gabriel and make him take up the mantle.”

Kali hissed in air through her teeth. “What you attempt....You are playing with fire, and I would know.”

Sam planted his feet and held his fists clenched at his sides. “But it’s possible, If I had a connection to him, like his blood. Do you still have it?”

“I do.”

Sam licked his lips. “What do you want for it?”

Kali turned fully, stepping up in front of him. She was shorter then him by an inch or two even with those dangerous heals, but that didn’t stop her from towering over him. “You could not even comprehend what that blood is worth.”

Sam had to stop himself from stepping back. She wasn’t touching him and he’d grown used to crazy powerful people throwing their weight around in his vicinity. It normally wasn’t so focused on him though…. It was like standing next to a bonfire, so close that the hairs on his arms singed and the air itself was hot enough to burn. And from what he could tell, she wasn’t even angry yet.

“What do you want?” He forced himself to ask again. He could feel the heat cracking his throat.

“There are other things you will need.”

“I know.”

“The ritual was lost.”

“I know who has it. Or, a record of it at least.”

Kali shook her head. “See yourself as such a clever little mouse, don’t you.”

“I will get him back.”

“And what if he doesn’t want to come back to you.” The heat skyrocketed with her words. Sam wasn’t sure if he’d somehow angered her or if he’d simply hit a sore spot.

“Then there’s nothing I can do to stop him from leaving again, but I have to try.” It didn’t come out as words so much as a dry croak, but it was the best he could do while holding up under her onslaught.

Kali took a step back and the temperature started to drop. Sam took a deep breath and tried to blink the sweat out of his eyes without calling attention back to himself.

“I owe Loki, and the current situation does not sit right with me, so I will grant you the blood, if you survive.”

Kali’s words were low so it took a moment for sam to realize, “If I survive?”

“You didn’t realize? I’ve been waiting for you to die for our whole conversation. The defences you erected will not hold for much longer.”

Sam blinked and tried to focus back on the real world. He knew he was still sitting there, cross legged in his circle but it took effort to reconnect to that self.

Kali was right. The shadows had crept long over the floor and the flames in his holy oil circle and sank low. There were figures in the dark, Daevas if Sam had to guess, and there was movement outside the building. Even the building itself was sagging. A fog was slowly rising as the temperature dropped hours before it should have. Water was seeping through the cracks in the walls, dripping into cracks and oil stained puddles on the worn concrete floor.

As Sam watched a flow of water slid over one of his sigils and the blood started to dissolve. It wasn’t the first. Three other sigils had already been worn away. His defences were being slowly pulled down, with what was probably an army outside waiting to tear him apart.

Sam tried to stand up, he had to find a way out now, before he was completely hemmed in. Except it wasn’t working. He couldn’t move properly, even to raise his head or lift his arms. Echoing from the back of his mind Sam heard Kali’s voice.

“I thought you were committed Sam. Oh but don’t worry, they won't get your soul. If they do kill you I have first claim. And if your defences can hold until dawn they’ll be forced to retreat, and you can leave with the blood. More than fair don’t you think?”

Like hell, There was no way the symbols would hold up for the next eight hours. He’d be lucky if they held up for one. It was clear that Kali wasn’t going to let him leave and it would probably void the deal if he somehow found a way.

It had been a while since he was this well and truly fucked.

  
  


\--------

 

Gabriel was notified of the power confluence, but he was notified of many things. When Sam made contact with Kali Gabriel knew about it. Sam was his by all accounts, and Kali was at best a foreign power. She did not try to end Sam’s life though, and Sam had been the one to reach out. Actions had consequences, as Sam well knew.

Gabriel put the situation to the back of his mind and returned to the matter of reestablishing the hierarchy within the garrisons.

  
  



	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so this chapter was a lot harder to write then I thought it was going to be. Dean would just not cooperate for the longest time. Also I was not expecting Meg to show up so now I'm going to have to figure out where she fits... anyway, hope you like the chapter.

 

Sam’s defenses had been worn down until only the ring of holy oil was left. Over the hours the flames had sank low. They were burning more steadily, and for longer than any normal kindling would have sustained, but his time was still running out. At best guess dawn was two hours away. If he was lucky the circle of fire would last another half hour.

Sam looked down at his phone. He had a signal, but the last three calls he’d tried to make hadn’t connected, and the battery was almost dead. His circle had already held out longer than he’d hoped, but it had only given him time to figure out how stuck he was. Sam knew he should have planned things out a bit more, brought backup, something. It was just that he’d finally found a spell that could work. After all that time he’d had a chance again. 

Sam’s fingers hovered over the buttons. He eventually managed a “Sorry, Love You.” and sent it off to hover in cyberspace until Dean turned on his phone. It wasn’t the first time he or Dean had sent off what they thought might be death bed apologies. Dean would understand everything he wasn’t saying.

Sam switched his phone to power saving mode and sat back in his circle. His last hope at this point was Gabriel, but he’d been praying on and off for the past hour and there was no sign of the angel yet. 

About half an hour ago there had been what seemed like a power struggle between the demons and the daevas. It probably had to do with him. Who would get to keep him. The end result was some of them taking off so that was good. It meant there were only four dozen of them rather than six, not that it made much of a difference. 

The sound of a small cannon overridden by an earsplitting whistle, echoed through the dark, and made Sam’s hair stand on end. He held his breath.  The sound was startling but once he’d gotten over his surprise he realized he recognized it. 

Fireworks?

A second round of screamers went off, this time with a blinding strobe that’s only partially deadened by the crumbling walls; the Winchester equivalent of a flash grenade. Dean. It has to be Dean, which means he isn’t doomed yet.

Sam’s eyes dance between the hole in the wall, the old door, the broken windows. Dean will try to get him out, which he would be all for in any other situation but… would that break his Dean with Kali?

Ashower of red and gold sparks was followed by silence. Sam waited. Had it been a diversion or was there a fight out there that Sam couldn’t see? Had Dean been captured? Killed? What about the others, if he had brought any others…. Sam tried to breath slowly. He got to his feet. 

A second small explosion came from the north a slight distance from where the first went off. Then about thirty seconds later there was a third. Drawing the demons off maybe, or providing a moving distraction while someone came in from the other direction. Sam’s guards were distracted, but they hadn’t actually left their posts.

Sam tried to look around without looking like he was looking around. The echo of a shotgun was deadened by the low clouds. The three demons exchanged a look. One of them was wearing a high school goth kid, the second was a classic bruiser with full sleeves of tattoos and the third looked like a soccer mom. The sound of a shotgun came again, followed only a second later by the red glow of more fireworks.

The soccer mom waved at the others, and tattoo man stepped into the doorway. He looked around. He was just starting to turn back to the room when Dean stepped in and slid Ruby’s knife up under his ribs. The demon choked and light flashed under his skin. Dean yanked the knife free and pushed the body out of the way.

The goth demon was only a step behind its friend. It stepped in before Dean could get the knife up. They fought for control of the blade, strength against strength. Physically Dean was more imposing but the demon wasn’t playing by those rules. It snarled at him and pushed the knife up towards Dean’s collarbone.

Before either of them could get the upper hand the daevas poured down from the corners of the ceiling. Sam tried to shout a warning but Dean was as pinned down as he was.

A rattle of plastic on the wet floor and the world went white. The strobe was inside the warehouse this time and Sam had been caught off guard just as much as the demons. The daevas shrieked and scattered, searching for somewhere to hide. Sam blinked and another form stepped forward. Dean’s corner of the room was blasted by a floodlight that was masquerading as an overgrown flashlight. Cas had the lamp braced under one arm as he shook chemical lights to life, tossing them after the retreating daevas. 

Dean was the only person in the room who hadn’t been surprised by the sudden light. As always, he and Cas covering each other without even thinking about it. Dean grunted and shifted his hips. He knocked the goth demon back a step. It gave Dean enough room to shift his grip on the knife. 

Dean slashed across the demon's chest, following him as he stumbled back. Dean was shouting out an exorcism as he attacked again. The demon took the better part of valor and smoked out.

“Drop the knife!”

Dean and Sam both turned. The soccer mom had gotten ahold of Cas. She had one of his arms twisted into a lock and carefully manicured nails pressed against his throat. 

“I’m sorry Dean. I forgot that I couldn’t sense--” Cas’s words cut of as the demon shook him violently.

“Shut up.” She ordered him, then again, “drop the knife.”

Sam could see the way Dean’s eyes danced around the space, trying to find a loophole, and failing. He slowly lifted the hand holding the knife. The demon hissed at him. Dean didn’t really have a clear shot even if the demon wasn’t using Cas as a human shield. He dropped the knife, letting it clatter to the ground by his foot.

“Kick it away.” The demon hissed.

Dean kicked the knife into a corner. He had other weapons, but even blessed bullets and salt rounds didn’t always work. Cas grunted and tried to shift to take some of the pressure off his shoulder. The demon tightened her grip and Cas went still.

Dean took a step forward, hands out at his sides.

“Stop, don’t move.”

“Okay, then what?” Dean sneered, “You didn't actually have a plan did you? You going to order me to walk away? Then what. If you kill him, hell if you even scratch him, I’ll make sure your miserable existence comes to an end.

“Shut up.” The demon shouted. It looked around then took it’s hand off Cas’s throat to point towards the far wall. It started to speak, but the moment his neck was free Cas started chanting an exorcism.  She was forced to shove her fingers in Cas’s mouth to stop him.

Dean smiled and picked up where Cas left off.

“Stop. Shut up, Shut up or I’ll kill him.” 

Dean stopped chanting but pulled out his gun instead. “Told you I’d kill you.”

They were slowly circling each other when Sam saw the woman. He was about to call out a warning when he recognised her brown curls and held back biting at his lip. Meg bent and picked up the demon blade while everyone else was distracted. She waited for two slow beats while the demon took another step towards her. She delivered a killing blow without a sound, and the demon fell to the ground.

“Meg?” Cas blinked up at her. He lost his balance when the demon fell, but he quickly rolled to his feet.

“Hello Clarence, you’re looking better.”

Dean glared and stalked over to her. He snatched back the knife and pointed it at her face. “Back off.”

“What, helping you out last time and rescuing our little angel from the jaws of death, hasn’t made you trust me yet?” Meg pouted.

“Not when you show up out of nowhere.”

Meg rolled her eyes. “Feathers, tell your dog to back down. We’re all here for the same reason and you know it, or you wouldn’t have laid out this little bait and snatch. Information right? The queen may be charismatic but her minions aren’t exactly the brightest.” She sidled closer to Cas looking him up and down. “There’s something different about you. Once we’ve dealt with things here, what do you say we find a quiet spot and catch up.” She added a little pop on the end of the last word, letting her voice go low.

Cas looked slightly stunned. He opened his mouth then cleared his throat. “While I appreciate the offer,” He took a stumbling step backwards. “I, no thank you.”

Meg pouted. “Oh come on Clarence, It’ll be like old times.” 

“No means no hell-bitch.” Dean stepped in between them. “Now either explain what you meant by Queen or hit the road.”

Meg turned to Dean and gave him a disparaging look. She was clearly about to start in on him so Sam decided to interrupt.

“Guys can we argue later? I know there are more of them out there.”

“Sam is right.” Cas stepped up to Sam’s ring of fire and started examining it.

“Cas, hold on a second.” Sam closed his eyes and cast his thoughts back to that hot, arid landscape where he could still sense Kali watching him.  Are you satisfied? Her answer came as a small but meaningful weight in his inside pocket.  Thank you.  Sam carefully stepped over what remained of the circle. 

Dean glared. “You could have done that this whole time?”

“I was safer in there, besides I didn’t have what I came for. Now I do.”

Dean continued to glare, and Sam gave him one of those looks he hated so much.

“Oh how cute, the cavemen are communicating.” Meg crossed her arms.

“We should leave.” Cas said. He lead the way around the building and back towards a clump of trees where Dean had stashed the impala. Dean didn’t want to let Meg in the car but Cas argued that she had information. Mag tried to argue that she didn’t need charity but they all ignored her. She ended up in the back seat next to Cas, a pair of spelled handcuffs around her wrists.

Dean drew the line with. “We are not taking her back to the bunker.”

“Oh a bunker, sounds mysterious. Does it have a dungeon?” Meg leaned in towards Cas and spoke in a loud whisper.

“I will kick you out of this car.”

They ended up at an all night truck stop diner, while the sun was still touching the horizon.


	10. Chapter 10

Dean ordered pancakes and sausage. Cas had a waffle. Meg ordered the strongest coffee they had, but nothing to eat. Sam ended up with a spinach and mushroom omelet. As soon as it arrived he regretted it. Gabriel had made him almost the same thing once, if of a much higher quality. He reminded himself that now he had a plan. He had the taken the first step to getting Gabriel back. The vile of blood was still tucked into his inner pocket, over his heart.

Cas was the one to break the uneasy silence. “What were you doing out there Meg?”

“Hoping to get lucky, still am as a matter of fact.”

Dean tried to kick Meg under the table but he couldn’t reach. After all the squabbling in the car Cas and Sam had silently agreed to keep the other two as far apart as possible. Which meant that Dean was sitting next to Sam and across from Cas in the very back corner of the booth.

Cas decided to ignore the flirtation, or maybe he hadn’t understood it, he was getting better with that kind of thing but he still wasn’t great. “What do you mean?”

“Seriously?” Meg looked around the table. “Are you seriously telling me you went and set up an enormous red flag of a ritual on accident?”

“It wasn’t on accident. I just wasn’t expecting a bunch of demons to show up.” Sam kept his voice even.

Meg settled back, drank her coffee and shook her head at the ceiling. “Wow, you really have no idea. I don’t know if you're the luckiest bozos on the planet or just too dumb to die.” She waved down the waitress for more coffee and leaned forward. "Okay so here's what's going on. Before the apocalypse there were five or six major players downstairs: Azazal, Alistair, Lilith, you get the idea. But, well you know how things went.  Crowley knew how to play the field and bet on the right horse but he doesn't have the raw power any of them did. 

"Then out of nowhere Abadon shows up. Now everyone thought she was dead, I mean why else wouldn't she turn up to fight for our lord Lucifer?"

Dean and Cas glared while Sam methodically ripped the crust off his toast. Meg rolled her eyes and waved them off. She went on before the others could call her out.

“So she came storming into the throne room and orders him to get out. Well, a couple hundred years ago that would have been grounds for a formal challenge but we all know who would have won. Crowley tries to talk his way out of it, but she is having none of it. Now I wasn’t there but I heard that he tried to sucker punch her and then ran like his coat tails were on fire. So most of the court bow down, all hail the new queen. Except then they find out that Crowley hid all the relics and no one can decipher his code.

“So people started whispering. I mean what kind of queen is she if she let her opposition run off with the treasury? Well, she didn’t like that. Abadon killed half the court, put a bounty on Crowley and said anyone who could prove their worth, could earn a spot on her counsel. On top of that she then re-instituted a bunch of old laws that haven’t been in practice since the dark ages.”

Cas frowned. “What kind of laws?”

“Violent possessions, poisoning the wells, mark of the damned, typical dark ages stuff. Doesn’t work as well when half the population doesn’t believe in demons. Of course the way she’s steering the ship they will soon. She flat out told people to make deals with witches, bind souls, harvest rituals. That's what I thought you were doing but apparently not.” 

“It wasn’t a harvest ritual.” Sam tried to protest, but Dean was clearly still mad, so he shut up. Meg made a put upon expression and turned to look at Cas. 

“I don’t know how you can put up with it.”

Cas shifted in his seat. “Meg is referring to harvesting the energy of the ritual not the purpose of the ritual itself. The type of magic referred to as rituals, gather latent energy, shape it and then release it. However if the ritual is interrupted the energy has nowhere to go.”

“Yeah, kaboom. We’ve seen it before.” Dean stuffed the last of his pancakes in his mouth.

“Unless someone assimilates the energy before that happens.” Meg shrugged. “Instant power boost.”

“If the person in question does not burn themselves out in the attempt.” Cas corrected.

“Well some people aren’t afraid to risk it.”

“Fine.” Dean cut over the argument. “So the demons were there to try for a power grab, and there’s a new boss lady downstairs. Where do you fit in?”

“I saw an opportunity. Good thing too, right feathers?” Meg scooted closer to Cas again and Dean tried to stand up in response. Sam and the table prevented him but it was a close thing. 

“In this case, yes. I must thank you for your assistance.”

“Awe, no need to be all formal.” Meg leaned up and kissed Cas’s cheek, pointedly smiling at Dean. Dean tried to stand up again.

“I think you should go.” Sam said. He had to hold Dean back by the his shirt.

Meg slid out of the booth. “Yeah, I’ve got places to be. Maybe next time we can catch up properly Clarence.” She winked at him before sauntering towards the exit. 

Sam signaled for the check.

 

<><><>

 

Dean cranked up his music and refused to talk for the hour it took them to get back to the bunker. Sam had been through this before, more times than he liked to think about. Dean was the one who tended to go off half-cocked but when Sam screwed up, he screwed up big.

Kevin and Henry were waiting for them when the doors opened. Both of them looked like they expected the worst, which meant they had worked out at least part of what he had been trying to accomplish. Dean threw his jacket on the big table almost violently.

“I'm sorry,” Sam blurted out. He knew the signs and Dean was going to blow up before too long if Sam didn't derail him first. “I didn't think it would be that dangerous. I was just, fuck. I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking.”

“Damn straight you weren't thinking. If we hadn't figured out where you were those demons would have torn you apart, then Kali would have swept up the scraps, put you back together and done it all over again.”

“I know it was risky but--”

“Risky?” Risky is going into a vamp nest without knowing how many are in there. Risky is summoning demons and tricking them into devil's traps. That was beyond risky, that was suicidal.” by the end Dean was shouting, his words echoing off the stone ceiling. Henry and Kevin glanced at each other then made a strategic retreat. Cas started to follow, but stopped in the doorway. He looked from Dean to Sam and back, then shut the doors. He had decided to stay.

Sam knew he shouldn't let Dean's words get to him, but he did anyway. The difference was, his anger had already crystallized. He didn't shout but his words held just as much weight.

“Suicidal like modifying a pagan ritual to open a gate to purgatory? Or maybe like making a deal with Death to get me out of the cage? Stopping the apocalypse by letting Lucifer possess me, trying to make a deal with a whole host of pagan gods in order to get rid of Lucifer, selling your soul, do you want the whole list? I took precautions Dean. If I hadn't I would have been dead long before you got there.”

“Yeah, well, it clearly wasn't enough.”

“It would have been if the demons were acting like we thought they were.”

Dean looked like he wanted to punch something. Like that would somehow make things better.

“What do you want Dean? I'm sorry. I'll talk to you before I try any more rituals, but I'm not going to promise not to do it again because I would, and I will, if it means getting Gabriel back.”

Dean didn't have a good counter argument and they both knew it. “I don't like it.”

“You don't have to, you're not the one dating him.” Sam crossed his arms.

“He's a dick.” That earned Dean a raised eyebrow. He just kept going until he finally ran out of steam. “He's a dick and a coward and killed me about a thousand times and gave you genital herpes and turned you into a car. He used to kill people for fun and now he's the big dick upstairs... and he messed with my baby.”

Sam waited a beat after Dean finished. “You done?”

“Why him? He's not dead. It's not like he's called. Maybe he just doesn't want to see you.”

Sam took a deep breath, in through his nose and held it before slowly letting it out again. “Then he can come and tell me that himself, but I'm not going to give up on him, so don't ask me to.”

Dean turned away, started for the door, then turned back. He got right up in Sam's face when he said, “If you try to leave again I will find you and lock you in the dungeon.” He snatched up his gun and headed for the door again. Cas opened it for him and followed when he turned toward the range.

Sam let himself slump. He couldn't remember the last time he'd slept. His research was still laid out on the table, not quite how he'd left it but close enough. There were still things he hadn't figured out. The vile sat heavy in his pocket. Sam shook his head, trying to clear it. Sleep came first. Sleep, and a shower.

The vile of blood went into the lockbox in his room. He fell asleep without expecting to dream.

  
  


<><><>

 

Cas watched Dean go through four clips, one after the other. The paper targets were sturdy but that didn't stop them from being ripped apart. Regular rounds, with their sharp neat holes. Silver rounds, larger because of the added weight. Salt rounds with their peppering of tiny impacts that tore chunks out of the target. Dean's handgun held twelve shots. He had to replace the target twice for each clip.

Cas watch Dean press the button to bring the target forward, and Cas took advantage of the silence. “Are you just going to ignore me?”

“Don't know what you mean.” Dean grunted. He hooked up the new target and sent it back down the range.

Cas waited until Dean had emptied his clip again. “You're still angry.”

“Damn straight I am.” He slid the new clip into his gun with more force then was needed.

“You're not only angry at Sam.”

Dean paused as he was aiming, then went back to it as if he hadn't heard.

“If you were only angry at Sam you would talk to me about it.” Cas took a breath. “I'm sorry. I know I messed up. If Meg hadn't been there--”

“Don't,” Dean shoved his gun down at the counter. “Don't. It happens. You were watching my back rather than watching your own.”

“I'll always watch your back.”

Dean still wouldn't meet his eyes. “You don't have to.”

Cas didn't know how to respond. He watched Dean's hands check over his weapon, clip, slide, safety, an old and well worn pattern. “I don't understand.”

Dean pushed out a breath through clenched teeth. “You don't have to stay. Hell, Cas, you nearly got killed out there. You're human now, but I still dragged you along. I nearly got you killed.”

Cas took a step forward, but Dean just pressed on like if he didn't get it all out in one go he'd get lost along the way.

“I'm not your responsibility anymore. You don't have to prove yourself, not to me or Gabriel or anyone. You've got a second chance here and trust me when I say how rarely those come along. You can go find a nice girl, like you did when you lost your memories, and live the life everyone dreams of.”

An idea struck him, and Cas tried to catch Dean's eye. “Is this about Meg?” Dean tried to hide it but Cas knew him too well. “Listen to me. I am grateful for what Meg has done for me but I do not have feelings for her. Apart from the fact that she is a demon and I'd never be able to truly trust her, I have feelings for someone else.”

Dean's expression ran the gauntlet from embarrassment at being caught out, through sullen anger and ended up in shock before he pulled on his mask of indifference again. “Well, I hope you're very happy together. I'll make sure to sent flowers for the wedding.”

Cas sighed and shook his head. He hadn't planned for this, but it looked like Dean wasn't going to give him any other choice. “While I am not opposed to a wedding I am going to insist that you propose properly before there is any talk of flowers or other arrangements.”

Dean seemed to have stalled out.

Cas wished he could still read Dean's mood just by looking at his aura. He didn't think Dean would push him away, but well if he was setting himself up for rejection he'd take what he could while he still had the chance. Cas leaned forward, cupped Dean's jaw with one hand and pulled him in for a kiss.

Cas didn't have much experience and Dean was mostly unresponsive so it didn't last long. Dean was staring at him when he pulled back.

There should have been a tirade or a regretful refusal or possibly another kiss, but all Cas could read off Dean was a kind of blank confusion. He let his eyes drop back to the gun. “I've been human for long enough to know what I want, but I'm not going to press the issue. If you don't want this, me, then we can just pretend this never happened.”

Dean still didn't say anything. Cas waited, then nodded and turned for the door.

It wasn't until the door had snicked shut that Dean was able to blink himself back to reality. “Cas... Fuck.” He looked down at the gun. He flipped the safety back on, then tucked it in the back of his pants. Shooting things wasn't going to cut it this time. He needed a drink.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to leave it like that but I promise Dean will get his head on straight soon. :P


	11. Chapter 11

Sam knew it was a dream. It happened sometimes after hunts when he hadn't had a chance to burn through all the adrenalin properly. His mind would get rid of the excess by making him fight through his dreams, or in this case fuck through his dreams.

He was naked, pressed up against cold stone, hemp rope pulling his arms back over his head. Gabriel was on top of him. Not his Gabriel, Sam could tell that much, but the dream had gotten most of the details right. His nails dug into Sam's chest, circling his nipples as he bit into Sam's neck. The tease wasn't letting Sam inside; instead he let Sam rut up against his ass, fighting for every bit of friction he could get.

It was maddening, even more so because Gabriel wouldn't fucking say anything. If this was real he could have talked Sam into coming without anything more than what they were doing. As it was he'd probably wake up with a hard on and have an unsatisfactory time in the shower.

“Please, Gabriel.”

“Is that what you want?”

Sam blinked and looked up over the dream Gabriel's shoulder... and saw Gabriel. The archangel was dressed in white and gold robes and unlike the other times he had appeared in Sam's dreams, there were six golden white wings cascading from his back. His expression said he wasn't impressed.

The dream Gabriel dissolved like smoke in the wind. Sam tried to reel in his erection but that was Gabriel, the real Gabriel. He wanted more then anything to step forward pull him into his arms and kiss him until they were both breathless. Instead he reached for the fabric of the dream. The ropes vanished and Sam gained a pair of jeans.

“I've missed you.” Sam's voice broke on the last word.

The angel waved it away. “That's not why I'm here. I must ask you to refrain from performing any more rituals involving pagan gods and demons.”

Sam opened his mouth, then closed it. Gabriel's tone was doing a lot to get rid of the last of his arousal. “Or what?” Sam's tone was more tired then petulant.

Gabriel tilted his head to one side. “While you are mine Sam, I do have many responsibilities. Next time I may not be able to spare the energy to speed your brother to you.”

“Wait, you helped them get there in time?”

“Yes, now if I have your word...”

“No.” Sam knew Gabriel could probably feel the burst of hope that was swelling in his chest.

“Excuse me?”

“No, I'm going to keep doing rituals like that. I'm going to keep putting myself in danger. Because apparently that's what I need to do to get you off your perch in the clouds.” Sam grinned, wild and crazy.

“You would willingly disrupt the management of Heaven--”

“Yes,” Sam interrupted, “I will, because I'm not going to give up on you.”

Gabriel narrowed his eyes and the light around him grew sharper. “I could simply let you die.”

Sam was shaking his head before Gabriel finished the sentence. He tapped the tattoo that stood out sharply on his bare chest. “You won't, not while I have your protection. Which I notice you haven't removed, and I know you could. It would be easy.” Sam held up a hand “Just like that.” Gabriel's eyes were fixed on him as he snapped his fingers. For a moment Sam saw something in Gabriel's expression, then everything around him went black.

Sam sat up with a start, breathing as if he'd been running. He was still smiling like he had been in the dream. Looking down at his chest he noted that the tattoo hadn't disappeared.

  
  


<><><>

 

Dean had ended up drunk by half way through the afternoon. Henry and Kevin had stayed scarce out of self preservation. He was half way through the second bottle when he decided to talk to Cas. He didn’t know what time it was by then, but it was late. He had stood in front of the angel’s door for a while before actually knocking.

No answer.

Dean had to build himself up all over again before knocking a second time. No immediate answer but this time he hadn’t given up after a few quick taps. His fist hit the door until he couldn’t feel it anymore, until he had passed the point of bruising his hand. It became a rhythm, like one of his songs, his repeated pleading for Cas to open the door acting as desperate lyrics.

That went on for a while.

Normally Cas would be the one to pull him back. Cas was the one who would take the empty bottle and put him to bed. Used to be Sam, but Sam had been researching since they came back, and Cas hadn’t seemed to mind. At least, he hadn’t said he minded. Unless that was just… fuck.

Dean brought up his bottle and remembered it was empty half way through the motion. He lost his grip and it clattered to the floor. He watched it roll away and ended up falling back against the wall. He slid down to the floor and stared at Cas’s door.

“Sorry.” Dean had apologised a hundred times, but he couldn’t seem to stop. “Cas, please. I’m an idiot.”

A figure loomed over him. Sam, he’d know that hulking frame in his sleep. Sam was in sweatpants and worn out t-shirt, his standard sleepwear. “What are you doing in front of the archive room? I’m pretty sure it’s unlocked if you want to go in.” Sam’s voice was sleep heavy and slow.

Dean looked at Cas’s door. Was it the archive door? The hallways all looked the same. It was Cas’s door, but…

“God Dean, how much have you had to drink?” Sam had found the bottle. “Come on, I’ll help you back to your room.” Sam grabbed Dean’s hand and hauled him up until he could stumble along with his brother’s help. He fell into his bed. Sam tugged off his boots, and left the trash can next to the bed before leaving him in the dark.

 

<><><>

 

Cas walked into the kitchen and his heart sank. Dean wasn’t there. Sam and Kevin were doing the crossword while Henry made eggs. Dean should have been nursing his second cup of coffee, instead his seat was empty.

He shouldn’t have been surprised. If Dean wanted to ignore him, he wasn’t going to be half-assed about it. Cas got himself a cup of coffee and sat in his usual chair across from Dean’s. He stared at the chair then forced his gaze down to his cup. He still hadn’t really gotten the taste of it, but no one ever remembered to buy tea.

“Hey Cas, have you got a minute?” Sam finished his drink and headed for the sink to rinse it out.

“Of course.” Any distraction at this point would be welcome, especially since it would likely be days before Dean would speak to him in more than grunts. Cas took up his coffee and followed Sam into the library.

Sam’s research was still taking up most of the central table. The hunter took a moment to shift one of the piles and came up a moment later with a pair of old books. The first had a wood and cloth binding that had once been a vivid red but had faded with time to a dusty rose color; it was originally written in some variation of arabic but at some point another man of letters had added translations in latin and a rather formal sounding english. The other book was bound in old and creaking leather, and seemed to have been written in an old german dialect. There was no translations for that one, but half the pages seemed to be diagrams or formula which Sam had used to figure out the context.

“I’ve been trying to find a way to get Gabriel back.”

Cas rolled his eyes. “Yes we had figured out that much.”

“Okay yeah, I guess I wasn’t being all that subtle.” Sam offered up a sheepish smile.  “I actually did manage to find something though.” Sam slid the book with the red cover over to Cas. “This is an account written by a priest of Anubis who hitched a ride with a caravan of traders and traveled pretty far into central Africa.

“He wrote about three tribes who were at war. Apparently each of them worshiped a different set of gods, except one set of gods would actually go into battle. The tribe would summon them into one of their warriors, making a sacrifice out of him; a vessel. The real interesting part was that the other tribes had figured out how to kill the god. Snake oil and ox blood on their weapons or something, point is: it worked. It would kill the vessel of the god. At least until the next battle when the tribe would summon the god into a new vessel.

“The priest of Anubis goes on about the other god being escorted through the underworld and how Gods can’t actually die. Not while they’re still worshiped, while people still believe in them. They may be cut off from the physical plain for a while but it’s a handicap at most.

“And the guy who translated the book, he was a man of letters around the turn of the century, he did all these experiments and the theory checks out.”

By the end of his explanation Sam was buzzing under his skin, and he couldn’t help but gesture in his excitement.

“Even if Gabriel gave up the power, Loki isn’t dead!”

Cas considered that. “The theory is sound. I admit, my knowledge of the pagans is extremely limited but killing a god in such a way should have merely banished them to their elemental plane, like banishing an angel or exercising a demon. I take it you intent to resurrect Loki?”

Sam nodded.

Cas looked down at the books around them, his shoulders slumped. “Sam I am sorry to say this but Loki will not be the man you loved any more then Gabriel is that man now.”

“He will if Gabriel agrees to take on the mantel.”

Cas leaned back in his chair. “You think you can convince Gabriel to become a pagan god.”

Sam licked his lips. “I think… I think he doesn’t really want to rule heaven. I think he’s done it once already and well, I’d like to think that beyond the obligations he liked being here. I can’t force him. Technically I could try to trick him into it but if he wanted to he could just dump the power again. If I give him the choice though, well, I have to hope he’ll take it.”

“If he chooses otherwise you will be left facing a very angry pagan god.” Cas pointed out.

Sam’s smile was worthy of the trickster. He tapped his chest where the tattoo sat under his shirt. “I am a servant of Loki, his chosen, it is my duty to try to bring him back. If I fail in that attempt well, I am only human.”

Cas let out a bark of laughter. “Alright, fair enough, so what have you found?”

Sam flipped open the book and read a passage of the translation. “While the priests would not confide in me their ritual, I was allowed to watch as their war party set out, led by their god. The god retained the traits of the sacrifice, but gazing upon him with the third sight revealed the true nature of the being they worshiped.

The god had the tusks of a pig and while his skin was leather, it was scaled like a snake. Long strands of fire fell against it’s back like a trailing mane. He wore the armor of the other warriors, or more likely, they had fashioned armor like his: pads that hung over the chest and legs made of woven grasses with red and white mud painting their skin. The gods haired legs ended in cloven hooves that marked the ground even for those not touched by the divine to see.”

Sam pushed the book at Cas. The former angel nodded, glancing over the passage before looking up at Sam, still waiting for the punch line.

“So get this: A few hundred years later, an alchemist in germany managed to summon the same god. The tribe that had worshiped it had been enslaved by that point so the ritual was lost but there must have still been stories. Somehow this guy managed to rediscover the ritual.” Sam flipped open the second book. The illustration matched the first description nearly identically. “I haven’t translated the whole thing, but…” Sam flipped back a few pages, and jabbed a finger at a specific passage. “He says he traded for most of his ingredients with a red-eyed man.”

“A crossroads demon.”

“Exactly!”

Cas nodded. “I believe I see where this is going. What do you wish my help with, translating the ritual?”

“Well I’ve got most of it already. First you need a suitable vessel -- Gabriel if he agrees. The blood was the second ingredient.” Sam took a breath reining in his excitement. “I need your help finding Crowley. If anyone knows the details of the ritual it’s him, but after what Meg said….”

“And because we worked together I know his hideouts.” Cas’s voice sounded resigned even to his own ears.

“I’m sorry, but if there’s any chance. I tried summoning him the normal way but he’s got it blocked somehow.”

Cas held up a hand, cutting off the start of Sam’s ramble. It wasn’t what he would have chosen, but it would give him a chance to be useful without getting in Dean’s way. “I’ll look into a few places.”

Sam’s smile came back like the sun coming out from behind a cloud. “Thank you. I’ve got a bag packed and we can leave whenever you’re ready to go.”

Cas was already shaking his head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Dean would be not be happy if you left now, and I’m not likely to find anything in any case. You should stay here and finish translating the spell.”

“Cas, you can’t go alone.”

“Where are you going?” Cas looked up. Henry was in the doorway draining the last of his coffee from his cup.

Cas turned back to Sam, the other man was half standing and seemed to be about to brush the matter off. Cas intercepted him. “Henry can come with me.”

“Excuse me?” Henry asked glancing between them.

Cas turned before either of the others could get their feet under them. He grabbed Henry’s shoulder and pulled him around back down the hall. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shorter chapter, for some reason this one was a lot harder to write then it should have been. :P


	12. Chapter 12

Cas, for his part, focused on the road to the exclusion of everything else. Eventually Henry stopped giving him questioning looks and turned on the radio. It helped, a little. At least then he had an excuse not to say anything.

There were four bases in the United States that Crowley might still have been using. They got to the first one towards the middle of the afternoon. Cas could tell that no one was using it anymore from just driving past, but they got out and looked around anyway.

They weren't quite to the level of silent communication that Sam and Dean could manage, but Henry had a good eye and they worked together well. They watched each other's backs as they went through the rooms of the Old broadcasting station. At one point Henry pulled out a disposable camera and took shots of the sigils spray painted on the walls. They cleared out before it got dark.

There was the kind of cheap motel Sam and Dean always stayed at at the edge of town, but there was also a Best Western two blocks further down and Cas was feeling contrary. They checked in and ended up at an all night diner rather than a bar. Only when Henry's BLT and Cas’s burger has been deposited on their table did Henry ask the question that Cas had been waiting for all day.

“So, not that I don't appreciate the company, or the chance to get out of the bunker for a while, but why did you bring me instead of Dean?”

Cas bit into his burger. It was a stalling tactic but even with all day knowing the question was coming, he hadn't been able to think of a good answer.

“Did the two of you have a fight or something? I've only been here for a while, but you two seem pretty close….” He trailed off, clearly leaving the sentence open for Cas to interpret.  

That was the one area where Cas and Henry differed.  Where Cas had stepped into this world with so few expectations they might as well have been non-existent, Henry had stepped into this world with expectations that were very much present, just wrong so often that now he basically had to relearn everything anyway. He was trying, but it was clear a lifetime of socialization couldn't just be swept under the rug.

Cas could tell he wanted to think of the relationship between Cas and Dean as brothers in arms. Anything beyond that would probably make him uncomfortable.

Cast shook his head and took another deliberate bite of his burger. It was decent, but not nearly as good as Dean’s. And that was just the problem wasn't it. Even when Cas deliberately distanced himself from the other man he couldn't help but put everything in terms of how it compared to Dean.

Henry had gone back to his fries, clearly giving up on an answer, at least for the moment.

“I told him I loved him.”

Henry half choked on his mouthful, but Cas had been ready for it and pushed his water glass forward. Henry drank and did not meet Cas’s eyes. Slowly, he pulled himself together. Cas went back to his own fries, dragging them through his the ketchup and giving the other man the space he needed.

“I take it he didn’t respond well?” Henry mostly did a good job of keeping his tone even, but his eyes were still displaying the shock and incredulity he was feeling. Cas didn't blame him. In his time, saying such a thing out loud in a public place could mean a beating or worse. To be frank, Cas was surprised he was willing to entertain the idea at all.

“He didn’t say anything, which was answer enough.”

Henry nodded slightly, as if that part at least made perfect sense. “I see. So then this errand for Sam was just good timing to put some distance between you.” Henry looked him over, clearly flustered. “I didn’t realize you were a fairy…” Cas narrowed his eyes in confusion. “Sorry, that’s not the right word anymore is it? Gay?” Henry tried.

Cas waved it off. “I don’t think I am, not really. Love is… Love is something to be given to all. It is something wholly of God…or it was, before human misconceptions twisted it. The physical aspect is new to me.” He shrugged.

Henry looked like he was torn between academic curiosity and personal discomfort about the subject. Cas shook his head to brush away the thoughts that were threatening to pull him into a brooding stupor.

“If you want to go back to the bunker I can call up Garth and have him or Charlie provide backup for the rest of the locations.” Cas hoped his admission hadn’t pushed Henry too far for their friendship to take, but if it was, he wouldn’t press the man any further.

Henry shook his head, “It’s fine. Where are we headed tomorrow?”

They planned out a route: Whichita, New Orleans, and then Chattanooga.

They reached Whichita in the evening and doubled up the salt and sigils for the night. In the morning they made their move.

This particular hideout was fronted by a storage business. They rented a trailer for show and since Henry was less likely to be recognized he went into the office and played customer. Cas watched from out by the car and acted as backup. Then a second man came around the corner of the building and everything went sideways.

Cas could tell he was a demon. He didn’t wait to tell if it was instinct or something left over from his time as an angel, just aimed and fired a burst of rock salt into his chest. The man’s eyes went wide, but he didn’t go down.

“Castiel.” He said.

Cas was already pulling the trigger again. The second burst knocked the demon back. it’s eyes flashed black. Cas broke open the shotgun and scrambled in his pocket for more shells. The demon pushed off the ground supernaturally fast.

The demon walked into an invisible wall when Henry started chanting behind him. He struggled in place for a moment but he must have realized that he was outmatched and no help was coming. With a heaving sound black smoke started pouring from the man’s mouth.

“Tell your queen we’re ready for war.” Cas shouted after it.

Henry stepped up beside him, “The other one’s gone too. Think they got the message?”

Cas shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. We’ve got maybe an hour at best.”

They each grabbed a pair of bolt cutters and went down the rows of storage units. Each time they found something that looked even vaguely useful, they loaded it into the trailer to be sorted out later.

The last units had been empty, but the blood on the floor had spoken volumes. Cas snapped the lock on the a unit halfway down the row and shoved the door open. There was a figure chained to the wall, the length of the tether barely long enough for them to huddle in the corner.

“God,” Cas gasped, sending up a soft prayer. “It’s alright; the demons are gone,” he said, trying for reassuring. “Let me get those chains off you.” He approached slowly, like they were a skittish animal.

“Cas? We need to get going.” Henry blocked the light from the doorway. Cas couldn’t see his expression but his tone changed dramatically when he saw what Cas had found, “My God.”

“Check the other units. There may be more prisoners.”

“There are.” The prisoner spoke up and Cas was able to identify the voice as female, even if there wasn’t enough meat on her bones to make a distinction worth much. “There are two others.” She managed to hold out her wrists and he carefully picked the lock.

When she was free he pulled her to her feet. “There isn’t much time. I need you to stay with me and do as I say until everyone is safe, can you do that?” She nodded.

Henry had the second woman free by then. Cas stood guard as they rescued the last prisoner, a boy barely into his teens.

The car was cramped on the way back to the motel. Cas had wanted to head straight for the bunker, but Henry argued against it.

“We need to test them.”

“They were prisoners!” Cas had growled.

“That doesn’t mean they’re not possessed. Besides, we are too big a target with all three of them and the trailer. We’re going to need some better warding before we go anywhere.”

So Cas ordered three large pizzas and Henry sat their guests down on the second bed and checked them with silver, iron, ash and salt.

The first was the young woman Cas had rescued. She introduced herself as Candy. She had ragged blond hair that needed washing and as Cas had noticed earlier, she was underweight. She had been kept alive to threaten her lover, who was apparently in politics.

The boy was named Danny. He had mousy hair that had gotten too long during his captivity. His mother was high up in the peace corps.

The third woman was Asian and her captivity had pushed her farther into middle age then she should have been. When she introduced herself as Linda Tran, Cas and Henry exchanged a look. After a long silent minute Henry spoke, "I'm calling Dean."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> one of these days I'm going to work out a regular posting schedule for this story... but it is not this day.


	13. Chapter 13

 

Dean snatched up the phone before Sam could touch it. Waking up to find Cas gone had been bad on day one. When he hadn’t shown up or even called by halfway through day two, Dean was ready to snap no matter what Sam said.

“Cas?!” 

On the other end of the line there was a moment of shocked silence before Henry answered, “He’s here. He’s fine, but we have a different problem.”

“What is it? Is it demons? Sam said you were going after Crowley.” Dean was speaking too fast and too sharp. He had more than enough experience to realize he was on his last nerve, except normally it took a hell of a lot more before he got to that point.

Henry was going over what they had done and the people they had found. Dean forced himself to listen. 

 

~~*~~*~~*~~

 

Dean wanted to get in his car and drive the nine hours to find them. Sam kept saying they were safe, they were going to head back to the bunker first thing in the morning. There was no point driving down there just to turn around and drive back. Garth was closer and was heading that way to pick up the two spare hostages. He wasn’t needed.

Henry and Cas could handle themselves. Dean knew they could, knew Cas could. Cas had been a bad-ass before he'd met Dean and since he'd fallen Dean had been training and fighting beside him. Knowing Cas was still alive only underlined just how panicked he'd been when he'd found out Cas was gone.

His whole life, Dean had never been alone. He needed people, and since he'd moved around his whole life people roughly translated to Sam and Cas.

Dean couldn't sit still for more than ten minutes the next day. Cas and Henry were texting every hour and at Lunch Kevin had a long talk with his mom, so he knew they were coming. He knew Cas was alright.

It didn't help.

When they finally let themselves into the bunker Kevin ran into his mom's arms. Henry stood back and watched them with a satisfied smile. Dean, started to step forward. One hand came up, reaching for Cas before he remembered himself. Cas let his bag slide off his shoulder, and met Dean’s eyes. He was fine, no injuries, not even more rumpled than usual.

Henry clapped Cas on the shoulder and Cas smiled nodding back at him. Demons banished and people saved, a job well done.

Dean turned away and went to find another bottle.

 

~~*~~*~~*~~

 

Sam watched Dean stalk out of the room with his shoulders hunched. His brother was an idiot. It was as clear as day that something was up between him and Cas. Sam may have just as hard a head, but at least he was willing to fight for the love of his life.

Sam peeked into the hall and confirmed that Dean was heading for his room then turned back. It was in the job description for little brothers to meddle, Dean ought to be grateful he was encouraging this rather than trying to cockblock him.

“Hey Cas?”

Cas looked up, “Yes?”

“Dean said he wanted to talk to you in his room.”

Cas’s face fell, “Oh, I see.”

Sam sighed. That wasn’t the response he’d been hoping for. “He was really worried when you were gone.” Cas slowly raised his head. “He was actually kind of a wreck. Don’t let him run from whatever this is.” Sam clapped Cas on the shoulder and went to help Kevin’s mom get settled.

 

~~*~~*~~*~~

 

Dean’s door was half open, Cas knocked anyway. Dean looked up from where he was rummaging in one of his dressers, then he looked away again.

“Cas.”

Cas tried to think of something to say. A _How are you_ or _I missed you_ or _I love you_ that wouldn’t cross a line or set Dean running. “How were things while we were gone?”

Dean leaned back on his heels, and let his hands fall to his sides, “fine. Sam’s researching demon omens now. It’s like old times.”

Cas nodded. He considered coming into the room properly, maybe sitting on the bed, but he didn’t think Dean would be receptive to that, so he just kept standing in the doorway.

“You and Henry seem to be getting along.” Dean was staring at a point on the floor.

“Henry is a good man,” Cas said slowly. “We have several things in common.” Cas paused, watching Dean’s face go carefully blank. “However, I would much rather be hunting with you.”

Dean swallowed. The silence stretched.

“Sam was concerned about you.”

“Sam can shove his nose back in his books,” Dean snarled.

Cas stepped into the room. He grabbed Dean’s shoulder to pull him around, and only after Dean’s breath caught in his throat did Cas realize it was the left one.

“Sam cares about you Dean, and so do I.” Cas was standing too close again, he could tell, but when Dean looked up at him he couldn't back away.

“What do you want Cas?”

“I, ah,” Cas had to swallow around his dry throat. “I’m not going to let you run from this. I thought, I thought if I gave you space but…” Cas licked his lips and mentally braced himself. “You never gave me an answer, before. I’d like one now.”

Dean finally broke eye contact, looking down at a point around Cas’s collarbone instead. “I don’t know. I don’t want to lose you but, I don’t know.”

Cas considered that, and slowly nodded, “Alright. Are you…? May I try something?”

Dean glanced up again and nodded.

Cas cupped Dean’s head in both hands, and closed the small distance between them. This time Dean closed his eyes and relaxed. Cas traced the line of his lips with his tongue and Dean let him in. Cas went slow, savoring the press and catch of lips on teeth and tongue. It was good. A physical expression of the love he felt. It was soft and warm and it was filling him up. The tension between his shoulders that had been building up since their first talk, started to ease. A part of him wanted to take it just a step further, make it something real. When his cock started to get interested Cas pulled away.

Dean’s eyes were still closed.

Cas waited, this time he wasn’t going to run. “Was that alright?”

Dean nodded once.

“May I maybe do that again sometime?”

Dean’s eyes finally opened, they were dark and the green seemed to glow, mesmerizing Cas and trying to pull him back in. “Yeah.”

Cas wanted sometime to be now, but he didn’t want to push too hard. If slow was what it took than Cas was fine with that. He’d court Dean to the best of his abilities until Dean wanted him as much as he wanted Dean. He started to step away, mumbling something about unpacking, but Dean grabbed his arm.

“Cas, wait, I’m sorry. I’ve been acting like an idiot. I Just, shit man the last time I tried for a real relationship was Lisa, and you know how that ended. And the only other time was Cassie when Sam was at Stanford, and she flat out laughed in my face when I told her about the life. It’s not that you’re a dude, I mean it is a little because that’s weird but that’s not….  I don’t know how to do real relationships.”

Cas shifted back towards Dean, smiling softly. “And I do?”

“Okay, yeah. I guess we’d be figuring it out together huh?”

“I’d like that.”

“I seriously have no idea how to do this.”

Cas shook his head slightly, “Dean, shut up and kiss me again.”

Dean stepped forward, forcing Cas up against the wall. He kissed like he meant it this time, like he was done holding back, or maybe like he was determined to impress Cas. Their bodies fit together from shoulder to knee. Cas tried to keep track of what Dean was doing but he quickly lost track in the warm heady feeling Dean was spreading through him. It was good, so good. Cas wrapped his arms around Dean trying to keep him close, until he had to pull away to breathe. His hands slid down to Dean’s waist, grinding their hips together. He could feel that Dean was getting hard and Cas had already been on the edge.

Dean bit his lip cutting off the start of a moan, and staggered back half a step. It took him a moment of hard breathing before he could meet Cas’s eyes. “Sorry, I don’t think I’m quite…”

Cas nodded. “It’s fine.” He took a breath and tried to force his blood pressure back into it’s normal range. “We’re good?”

Dean’s eyes traced over Cas before he smirked. “Oh yeah.”

“Ah, yes, well, I’m just going to start getting things from the car than.” He pointed down the hall, but couldn’t seem to break eye contact.

“Okay,”

Cas backed up a step and hit the doorframe. He blushed and stepped into the hall.

“Hey Cas?”

“Yes!”

“What do you want for dinner?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God this was a hard chapter to write. This, this right here is why I ship Sabriel first and Destiel only a distant second. If this was Sam and Gabe one of them would have jumped the other a long time ago. *Sigh* I miss Gabe.


	14. Chapter 14

 

Sam glanced at his phone, saw jody’s number and answered with relief. He’d been trying to sort through the mass of papers and books Henry and Cas had brought back, mostly to avoid the twitterpated cloud floating behind Dean and Cas.

“Hey, Jody what’s up?”

“Hey, Sam. I’ve got a hunter here who says something big is after him. Are you giving out my number as a safehouse now? Not that I mind, you understand, but a little warning would be nice.”

Sam paused and shook his head even though she couldn’t see it. “Ah, no, unless Garth said something. Who is it? What’s after them?”

“Here I’ll put him on.”

There were the rustlings of a phone being passed around and then a familiar voice said, “Hello moose, I heard you were the one to talk to about demons.”

Sam was on his feet, his chair clattering back behind him. Everyone in the room, which was pretty much everyone who lived in the bunker, was looking at him. Which was good because things had to happen night now.

“What do you want Crowley?” Sam said as calmly as he could.

“Oh nothing too troublesome. I was hoping we could help each other.”

“And Jody.”

“Yes, she really is a sweetheart isn’t she. Lovely wards she’s got up too. Not quite what Bobby had but certainly stable.”

Sam rubbed at his eyes, Crowley had easily gotten around Bobby’s wards, no wonder he’d gotten around Jody’s. “If you hurt her.”

“Not in the plan, at least provided you boys can hurry on over. Wouldn’t want anyone getting too desperate.”

“Four hours.” They only needed three, but he figured he might need the time to convince Dean not to shoot Crowley on sight.

“Take your time,” Crowley hung up. Sam started for the door, and Dean fell into step. Cas was there on his other side without prompting.

Henry met them in the doorway, “What are you going to do?”

“This isn’t just about what I need for the ritual anymore. Crowley has Jody. He’ll do whatever he thinks is necessary and we don’t even know what he wants.”

“Well, than allow me to play devil’s advocate and ask if it’s really such a good idea to go charging in there without any idea of what you’re facing or a plan?”

“We’ll manage.” Sam said through gritted teeth.

Henry started to protest but Cas stepped forward, “Please wait here. Kevin is still a target and we may need a safe place to fall back to. We’ve dealt with Crowley before, Let us handle it.”

Henry shook his head with a little sigh, but he stepped aside.

 

~~*~~*~~*~~

 

It was close to sunset when Dean pulled up to the house. Neither Sam, nor Cas said a word as they got out of the car and took in the surroundings. The front of the house was dark, and if there was anyone else around they were well hidden. Their guns were loaded with demon binding bullets and rock salt, and they kept them low as they silently went up the walk.

Sam tried the door and found it unlocked. He pressed his back against the wall and nudged it open while the others covered him. The door squeaked a little, but otherwise there was no response. He slowly counted to ten, then slipped around the doorway. The front room was empty, no sign of a struggle, but Sam could now hear a pair of voices from the kitchen in the back of the house. He signaled for Dean to cover him and crept forward.

Sam paused outside the kitchen doorway just long enough to hear Crowley say, “Yes that does sound like Robert.” Before he stepped into the room, gun raised. Jody was sitting at the table, her chair pulled back at an angle so she could look at Crowley who was leaning against the counter with a bottle of wine in one hand and carefully not in view from any of the windows.

“Sam?” Jody started to stand, “What are you doing? Put down the gun.”

“Step away from him,” Sam ordered. He could sense Cas coming through the door behind him, and knew Dean would have circled around to the back kitchen door, he kept his own eyes, fixed on Crowley.

“I think not,” Crowley said, and raised a hand. Jody froze, one hand still resting on the table. Her eyes widened in shock, and Sam knew she was probably trying to scream or curse, but like the rest of her body, her jaw was frozen in place. 

Crowley pressed himself against her back, completely blocking Sam’s shot. “Now, boys I’m not here to fight. No one needs to get hurt, so if you’ll just put the guns down we can talk like civilized people.” He shot a look at the kitchen door, “You too squirrel.”

From outside Dean cursed. He pushed the door open for enough to brace his shoulder against the frame and kept his gun up.

Crowley looked between them then rolled his eyes. “Honestly boys, We’re all on the same side, or was my minion wrong when they reported that you were going to war with the self proclaimed queen?”

Sam saw Cas glance at him out of the corner of his eye. As much as he had wanted to talk to Crowley, he couldn’t let Jody stay in the line of fire. Gabriel would never forgive him, if he sacrificed his own allies to get him back.

“Let Jody go and we can talk.”

“And let you riddle me with salt? I don’t think so, but I will give you a gesture of my good intentions.” Crowley pulled Jody’s head around and kissed her. Sam tried to shout a warning but Crowley hurled the bottle of wine at the ground and the sound was lost in the shattering of glass. Blinding light filled the room for half a second. Sam kept his finger off the trigger, as he frantically blinked his eyes back to normal.

“Jody!” Then he saw what Crowley had actually done and had to flinch back, covering his eyes again.

  
  


 

Bobby singer looked down at himself. He was alive which was nice, but he was also naked and dripping wet from what smelled like cheap wine. “Balls,” he grunted, “You could have at least ponied up for a pair of pants.”

“You’d have had to change them, anyway,” Crowley shrugged.

“Because you couldn’t have found anywhere else to keep my soul?”

Crowley started to shrug, but Jody interrupted him, bringing up her hands. “Enough, pants, now, please.”

Cas set his gun on the table and took off his jacket, handing it to the older man. Out of everyone there, he seemed to be the only one uneffected. he looked at Crowley and said, “We should talk.”

 

 

Dean wasn’t happy about it, but after some careful negotiation of boundaries and procurement of a pair of sweatpants, they all sat down unarmed at the kitchen table.

“First thing first, Let Jody out of that deal,” Dean said.

Crowley laughed, “you must be joking, boys. Honestly, when have you ever known me to let go of a valuable bargaining chip when I don’t have to? I wouldn’t worry about it too much. She’s got ten years, you’re likely to be long dead by then.”

Cas put a hand on Dean’s arm, and Sam asked, “Aren’t you on the run? I thought you couldn’t revive anyone without access to everything?”

“You are correct, but when I took my leave I decided to pick up Robert’s soul on the way. I’ve said it before, you two boys are not to be underestimated. Robert knows quite a bit about you, so I thought it best to take that knowledge out of the enemies hands as it were. Now, please tell me you actually have a plan, and weren’t just declaring war for the hell of it, Excuse the expression.”

Jody held up her hands, “Okay someone mind filling me in?”

“He’s not actually a hunter.”

“Yeah I got that bit, it’s the rest of the history I’m missing.”

Cas stepped in to summarise, “A few years ago, in the aftermath of the apocalypse, there was a war in heaven. I was pridefully trying to lead a rebellion against Raphael. Crowley had helped us during the apocalypse so I agreed to an alliance in exchange for enough power to level the playing field.”

“It was a lucrative agreement for both sides, at least until the last few hours.” Crowley agreed.

“Two days ago I let a demon escape, with the message to tell the new queen of hell that we were ready for war,” Cas went on.

“And thus, here I am.” Crowley made a grand gesture, “After all, the enemy of my enemy, and all that. You can’t possibly hope to defeat a knight of hell without a little inside knowledge.”

“I did want to find you,” Sam agreed, “but not for that.”

Crowley paused, “excuse me?”

“There’s a ritual, it’ll bring back a pagan god after it’s been killed. You should have a record of it.”

Crowley held up a hand in the universal signal to wait, “Let me see if I understand this. Instead of dealing with the knight of hell that’s ready to unleash the next dark age, you want to resurrect a pagan god so you have something else to fight instead?” Crowley pinched the bridge of his nose, “Bloody morons, I should have known this would be a waste of time.” He stood and started for the door. “Jody, it’s been a pleasure, I’ll see you in ten years. Try not to get yourselves killed.”

“Wait, please here me out,” Sam stood. He didn’t know what he was going to do if Crowley left.

“We do want to stop Abaddon,” Dean added,”We’ve seen what she can do. She went toe to toe with Gabriel when she first showed up, but unless you can pull the colt out of your ass, we don’t have anything that can kill her.”

Crowley spun on his heel, “Oh please. Don’t try to tell me you don’t have a stash of angel blades hidden in that car of yours.” 

Cas spoke to the table, “They won’t work. The sword of an archangel, maybe, but not the blade of an average angel. I think you know that.”

“Well excuse me for not wanting to take legend as fact!”

“Hey, easy,” Bobby said, “There can be good info in legends, so why don’t you walk the rest of us through it.”

Crowley looked at Bobby for a long minute. There was something behind his eyes that Sam couldn’t read. Than he sighed and sat back down. “There are stories that get passed around down below. A lot of them are about Lucifer, but there are others. Stories about how Lillith was born. Stories about the darkness before time. Stories about Cain and Abel, and the knights of hell.

“The way that one goes, is that Cain and Abel were meant to be Michael and Lucifer’s first vessels, except Lucifer started talking to Abel first. Abel thought he was talking to Michael or God. Cain found out and pleaded with Lucifer to take him instead, which was exactly what Lucifer actually wanted. Only instead of possessing him, he branded him. They called it the Mark of Cain in their infinite originality.”

Crowley sneered, then his expression fell again, and he went on.

“Cain then branded the first twelve demons to be knights under himself and Lilith. The brand made the bearer nearly impossible to kill, and as you have noted, able to go up against even heaven’s strongest. Except what he hadn’t realized was that as more people were branded, the weaker it became. The effects were too widespread. One by one the knights were killed off. Michael killed a few of them, others were killed by the old gods, and on the rare occasion a human managed to find a weapon that could get the job done.”

Cas nodded, still looking at the table. “Accurate as far as I’m aware. If the mark was still spread than a regular angel blade might have done the job, but Abaddon is the last of the knights. She will be the hardest to kill.”

“So then, what are you going to do?” Jody asked. 

“Dean said it, the colt.” Bobby crossed his arms and looked around. “Unless These knights are another of the five things it won't work on?”

Crowley and Cas looked at each other. 

“No, it should work.” Cas said.

“With a tooth from the first blade as the firing pin, yes I should say so.”

“A what as the what now?” Jody looked like she was getting out of her depth.

“The first blade was Cain’s weapon. It was made from a jaw bone. According to Legend it can only be wielded by someone with the mark, but Colt was more of a genius than anyone gave him credit for.” Cowley looked around at the surprised faces. “What, I had the Colt for months before I gave it to you lunkheads,of course I looked it over.”

“Okay, so who has this magic gun now?” Jody was definitely getting to the end of her rope. 

“Lucifer.” Sam said.

Crowley cleared his throat before the room could grow too glum. “Correction, Lucifer had it before you boys locked him away again. It is currently locked away in Hell’s vaults.”

“What you couldn’t have grabbed it when you left?” Dean asked.

“I was working with a very limited time frame. I did however manage to reset all the codes, so unless the new queen is a lot smarter than she’s been letting on, it will still be there.”

“Well, at least there’s that,” Dean muttered.

“For all the good it does us,” Cas said. “We’d have to break into Hell to get it back and even if we managed it, we’d still have to get close enough to use it.”

Silence settled back over the room. After a while Jody sighed and rolled her eyes. “So what now than?”

“Research.” Bobby said.

Jody stood and pushed in her chair. “Well I guess I’m ordering food than, unless you boys want to go back to your secret lair?”

“We are not taking him to the bunker!” Dean snarled in Crowley’s direction.

“Pizza it is.” Jody said, and left.

The wheels in Sam’s head had been turning all through the conversation. No one seemed to care about his ritual. Even they weren’t foolish enough to make a raid on hell when no one was at risk. No one Dean cared about anyway.

The group slowly broke up. Crowley didn’t seem inclined to leave. Bobby went to look through the books that they had left with Jody to see if any of them would be useful. Cas dragged Dean away after a minute with the excuse of filling Bobby in on what had happened since he died.

Sam waited an extra minute, to be sure none of them were about to come back, before he turned to Crowley. “What would it take,” he asked, “to break into Hell?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So apparently this is the verse where EVERYONE gets to come back to life. I actually had no plan to bring Bobby back until i wrote this chapter. Also if anyone is wondering about Crobby, yes I ship it, not sure if it will actually be a thing in this one.


	15. Chapter 15

Sneaking out was a simple matter of making sure the kitchen door didn’t slam behind them and cutting across the neighbor's yard. Sam hotwired a car and Crowley climbed into the passenger seat.

“The way I escaped, and frankly our best way of getting in, is through purgatory. There are weak spots in the borders between worlds, lay lines, hot spots, whatever you want to call them. I can open a door into Purgatory and from there we do our best to avoid the locals until we can find my backdoor into Hell.”

Sam nodded, his jaw set in a tense frown.

“Of course from there things only get more difficult. No one can know we’re there or Abaddon will make your time in the cage look like a Sunday stroll. If we manage to get to the vaults, than I can open the doors. You grab that spell you’re so interested in, I grab the Colt and we exit the way we came. That’s the ideal.”

“Let me guess, if we get caught it’s every man for himself?”

“Quite so.” Crowley sneered.

Well at least he was being honest about the upcoming betrayal. Sam had no doubt that things wouldn’t be that easy. He’d betray Crowley first if it came to that, but for now they both needed each other. 

It was eight and a half hours to Chicago. Sam nodded when Crowley told him it was a crossroads, Gabriel had said the same thing. The city was still recovering. It had been less than six months since he and Gabriel had summoned up famine’s power, even though it felt like a hell of a lot longer.

The center of the city had been the worst hit. The prettier neighborhoods had been cleaned up, but the moment they left the main streets signs of the damage were noticeable again. Bloodstains were the most obvious. Sam knew as well as anyone how hard it was to get blood out of anything and for most of the stains it didn’t look like anyone had even tried. There were broken, boarded up windows. Graffiti was everywhere. Streetlights were out. One building had an obvious dent in one wall where it looked like someone had crashed at a decent speed.

Crowley walked through it all like he owned the place of course. Sam just straightened his spine and put on his best “don’t mess with me” face. Between the two of them, people stayed away. Eventually Crowley turned into a dead end alley where there was more graffiti than wall space. 

He studied the wall for a moment then asked, “ready?”

Sam loosened his knife in its sheath and nodded. Crowley did something, a twist of his hand and the wall shifted, reality rippling around them. A space in the wall opened. Sam had been waiting for it, and like the last time he’d been faced with a gate to purgatory, he didn’t hesitate.

Last time he hadn’t had much time to take in the sights. This time wasn’t different but with Crowley as a guide it fell to him to watch their backs. The trees were old and the canopy was thick overhead even though there was a chill to the air that made Sam think of autumn. There were brambles, and creeping vines trying to strangle the trees. Somewhere in the underbrush something moved over dead leaves.

“This way,” Crowley whispered, “And hurry, we don’t want to attract attention.”

Sam remembered the twisted thing that had once been a part of Cas and shuddered. in some ways that thing was more unsettling than the Leviathan. At least with those black blooded bastards he knew how to kill them.

It was a twenty minute hike to the hellgate. Not that it was much of a gate, just a crack in a dead tree, where hot sulphurous air made the already heavy atmosphere even harder to breathe. Crowley made that world twisting gesture again, to widen the crack enough to slip through.

Sam could immediately tell that where Purgatory was the kind of nightmare forest you found in the really old fairy tales, Hell was the kind of maze fortress found in high fantasy, possibly with a few M C Escher prints thrown in for good measure. There were walls and floors and cages and one flowed into the next without any sense or logic. 

Crowley crept to the end of the hallway, and waved Sam up to stand next to him. One of the walls crumbled away and Sam’s perspective was forced to shift. They were standing on the wall of a room, or a pit, a large space filled with smoke and heat and writhing things that took on human shapes only when it suited them. The space was so vast that Sam couldn’t put it in perspective properly. It felt like he had slid through the skin of the earth and ended up in an inverted space. He was walking on the underside of a dome where spirits built stalactite towers, forever rotating around a central point. 

Sam shivered, no wonder the demons worshiped Lucifer if that was where his cage was.

Crowley pointed to a twisted tower of wrought iron. On earth it would have been the size of a mountain, but here size was a concept that didn’t always mean the same thing. “That is traditionally the center of power. The throne of Hell is at the top and it’s vaults are in the base. There’s just one little thing.”

“What? We can’t get in?” Sam had been waiting for it, the catch. Now that they were here it wouldn’t be nearly as simple as Crowley had described. There would be an army they had to fight through, or a sewer they had to crawl through, or a gate with only one key. And of course because Crowley would be recognised or whatever it would have to be Sam to do the dirty work. It was the only thing that made any sense. If it was as easy as stand up and walk in Crowley could have done it himself.

Crowley seemed to be following his thoughts. “The place is crawling with all of the nastiest demons in existence. We’ll need to draw them out before we can get close. A distraction is called for.”

Sam only realized that he had been pushed after he had started to fall. He was falling. Falling towards the center of the earth with demons, and smoke, and  hurricane wind whipping around him. 

From the ledge Crowley smiled. “Reintroducing Lucifer to his vessel should do nicely.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short chapter and the almost literal cliffhanger. I know. I'm evil :)


	16. Chapter 16

The thing was, Sam had been expecting it. Oh he hadn’t been expecting Crowley to push him off the ledge like that, but the betrayal? Yeah, he’d known that was coming. He sent a silent prayer to Gabriel and turned to his contingency plan. Henry had taught him the start of soul magic, and he reached for that power now, forcing the world around him to bend to his will.

First he decided that falling wasn’t actually what he was doing. He decided it in the way he’d decided to get Gabriel back. It was fact, all other possibilities were dismissed as pure fiction. He wasn’t falling because this wasn’t real. It was a construct his mind had created to account for things his senses couldn’t handle. And if his senses couldn’t handle it he wouldn’t use them. Yes, he had a body, but just like the angels and their vessels, that wasn’t him, just his packaging.

Light flared, pure white, burning through the smoke and the darkness. Around him the world stopped, and for a moment that lasted minutes Sam could see himself from inside and outside. His skin was transparent, his blood glowed and his bones were made of liquid fire. The tattoo on his chest was a brand anchored to his heart. Power thrummed under his will waiting for a target.

There was a sound like screeching breaks and a badly tuned radio. There was movement at the edge of his aura. The demons that had been strong enough to survive his explosion of power were recovering and others had noticed his appearance. It was hard not to, he was a beacon in a world that had forgotten what light was. As one they gathered themselves and rushed him from every direction.

Sam knew he was strong, he could fight them off for a while, but he would never win. There were simply too many of them. No, he had to run.

He picked a spot near the base of the tower Crowley had pointed to and decided it was the floor. Gravity reengaged and he was falling again, but in the opposite direction. The demons shrieked and poured after him.

Sam hit the ground, and had to remind the world that no, injuries weren’t going to be a thing either, at least not from falling. Some of his pursuers weren’t so quick on the uptake. The demons behind, slammed into the demons in front, snarling at each other before remembering their target.

He ran. He had no idea where he was going, all the passages looked the same. He’d randomly open doors behind him, some held prisoners who added to the mayhem, others lead to torture rooms, and the demons inside joined the pursuit. Every time he got the opportunity he’d throw something back at them. He refused to let his gun run out of bullets and with the power of his soul running through it, his knife could do as much damage as he could imagine.

The first wave of dizziness hit him in the middle of stabbing a demon who’d been in the wrong corridor at the wrong time. For a moment the light around him dimmed and his limbs felt like they had lead weights tied to them. He managed to slash through the unlucky demon, letting its form dissipate. It was his soul. The more magic he used the weaker he became. He was probably already too weak to pull off another change to the rules of this place. He needed a new plan.

Sam turned down the next corner and the moment he was out of sight he slipped through the nearest door, and willed his light to fade, pulling the energy back into himself. His vision focused and he was able to take in the room he’d ended up in.

It was either a torture room or a supply closet. It was about the size of a large walk in closet, with shelves along the sides and chains hanging from the back wall. The crashing of the mob echoed through the door, but for the moment at least no one seemed to realize he’d slipped away.

There was just one problem: he wasn’t alone.

The other figure still looked slightly human. It’s limbs were too long and it’s features were fuzzy, like an out of focus photograph. If he had to guess, it had probably been a woman, but he couldn't tell much else. Whoever this soul had been, it was losing itself, but it wasn’t quite there yet. 

“Sam?” It’s voice sounded like it was under water. 

He’d already been bringing up his gun, but at his name, he froze. It could be a trick. Maybe it could read his mind, or maybe it wasn’t even seeing him. Sam wasn’t such an uncommon name, it could think he was someone else.

“Well, I guess they have to screw up every once in awhile.” It’s attention had turned inward, it’s voice dropping, clearly no longer addressing him. “Should have been Dean. Dean would be willing to kill me. No rescue that would be too much, never believe it. Death, oblivion, that I could believe.”

Sam swallowed. There were a lot of people they’d let die over the years, and he had no doubt that a good number of them had been sent downstairs. It was possible he knew this spirit. Time moved different here, this could be anyone and theoretically they could still know themselves. It wasn’t a very likely situation but it was possible. 

“Who are you?”

“Oh, that’s a good touch,” it muttered to itself, “Didn’t come for me. They never would, but a chance encounter, that’s something. Still ignores the fact that we’re in hell. They’re better than that. Dean got the whole heavenly rescue. No reason to come back now, Sam he’s already gone.”

“What’s your name?” He tried. He didn’t have much time. Those demons would be back before long and he couldn’t be here when they did; if that meant leaving this soul to her torment than so be it. 

“Always so straightforward. Never learn. Can’t believe I was ever tricked by them, still I tricked them back didn’t I. Stole the gun. So close, I was so close, but demons lie. All their lies….”

Sam couldn’t help showing his surprise, his eyes went wide and he had to concentrate to keep his mouth from falling open. “Bela?”

The soul blinked once, then again and as he watched her form solidified into something more real, more human. Wavy brown hair, full lips and high cheekbones, she was wearing a pair of tight black pants and a dark turtleneck under a brown jacket.

“Bela. That was my name. They took it, but--” She finally looked up and properly met his eyes. “Sam?”

He ran a hand through his hair and took a moment to wonder what he should do now. He couldn’t just rescue her. It didn’t matter if she deserved it or not, that wasn’t why he was here. Besides he didn’t know where he was or how to get out of there. At the moment his best option was to head for the vault and maybe find Crowley, force him to take him back to earth before they both ended up dead, and hopefully grab the ritual on the way.

Sam had to keep thinking that getting out of there in one piece was an option, even if the odds were so dramatically stacked against him that it wasn’t much of one.

“Sam? Is that really you? Why? How?”

He glanced back at the door, considering for a moment, than gave her the short version. When she heard Crowley’s name her expression darkened.

“That bastard is still breathing?”

Sam rolled one shoulder, “Last I saw, he was planning on heading to the vaults.” There was a dark fire in her eyes and Sam couldn’t tell if it was part of hell or just part of her. After all she had every reason to be pissed at Crowley. She had given him the colt and he hadn’t done anything to get her out of her deal. In a way all the torture she’d been put through was his fault.

“Get me out of these chains and I can get you to the vaults.” He gave her a sceptical look, but she just smiled. “I’ve been down here long enough to know my way around.”

“Then what? Are you going to kill him?”

“If I can,” she said with a little smile. 

Crowley had been their friend and enemy and a lot of things in between, but at the moment all Sam could really think about was the fact that Crowley had been planning on offering him up to Lucifer.

“Fine, you’ve got a deal.”

The chains didn’t have locks that he could pic, but it didn’t take a lot of soul magic to break them. Bela nodded her thanks, and started to open the door, then hesitated.

“Dim the lights.”

“What?”

Bella waved at him. “Your soul. It still has hope, a purpose. It’s kind of obvious that you aren’t one of the damned, so I don’t know, think of something sad or something.”

Sam considered that. It made sense. He took a slow breath, and told himself anything would be worth getting Gabriel back. Then he hit himself with every terrible memory he could dredge up.

There were a lot of them. Torture from the cage, and seeing Dean die, and watching the light fade from Gabriel’s eyes. He was shaking when he opened his eyes again, and for a moment he had to lean against the wall just to stay on his feet.

Bela nodded, “Sucks doesn’t it. Come on, we should get going while they’re still distracted.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, so, no Lucifer, but here have some Bela instead. :)


	17. Chapter 17

Bela was as good as her word.

They ran through the passages with silent purpose. Bela glanced around corners and either motioned for him, to wait as guards passed or waved him forward to wreck havoc. Then she’d take the lead again, darting down passages lined with the damned.

Sam didn’t even realize they’d made it to the tower until Bela was pressing his back to a stone parapet and he tilted his head back to see it looming above him.

“How many bullets you got left?” she whispered seductively against his neck.

Sam considered. Every shot was taking a bit out of him. The happy memories seemed to make the most powerful bullets. Memories of Gabriel were particularly strong, though whether that was because Gabriel was an angel or whether Gabriel had been using magic in most of the memories he couldn’t guess. It was easier to pull up happy memories together but trying to pull out those memories and then hide himself in depression again was draining him faster than either act individually.

“If we weren’t hiding, maybe three dozen. With the camouflage, maybe ten.” He was hedging his bets, he could probably manage a dozen, even fifteen, but he wasn’t going to tell Bela that. As much as he wanted to trust her, he’d already been betrayed once today.

Bela, considered. “Up to four at the gate. At least two checkpoints and the vault guards, plus anyone we meet on the way… it’ll be close.”

“We could rush them?”

She eyed him, “And get out how exactly?”

Sam shrugged, “I’m hoping there’s something in the vault we can use to blast our way out.”

She considered that briefly, “well it’s better then another thousand years of torture. I distract the guards and you follow me in?”

“Works for me.”

She slid sideways through the shadows until she could see the gate, holding up a pair of fingers to indicate the number of guards. He nodded and they went to storm the castle of hell.

Battle fury was something Sam was well used to by now. The fact that he didn’t have to worry about civilians and was using a magic weapon that fed off his soul only made the situation more favorable. He never had to stop and reload, never had to second guess a shot. 

Bela did her part well. Once the guards had been taken out she slammed the gate behind them and used a spell of her own to send copies of themselves down each of the splitting hallways they encountered.

The first checkpoint thought they weren’t real and Sam took out the demon guards before they could realize otherwise. The second checkpoint thought they were being besieged and wasted time firing at the illusions.

Bela slammed the final gate behind them and Sam looked up at the door to the vaults of hell. It was a strange mix of ancient and modern. Cast iron rune work was laid into the walls but the safe itself was to of the line, retina scan, palm scan, key code, the works. No wonder a demon who’d been out of touch since the 40s hadn’t been able to figure it out. Times had changed a lot since her day. 

Bela waved him forward. “This was your plan, Can you open it or are we both dead?”

Sam wasn’t a total stranger to safe-cracking, come to that neither was Bela. Still this was so far beyond him he knew better then to even try. Sam stepped forward anyway. If there was a way he had to find it, and fast.

The door opened leaving him staring at Crowley and the barrel of a gun; not just any gun, the Colt.

Years of training took over. Sam stepped in. He didn’t bother going for the gun, instead he batted Crowley’s arm off target and went for his face. If the crunch of a broken nose was a bit more satisfying than usual then it was only the demon’s own fault for the betrayal.

Crowley cried out, stumbling back. He managed to bring the gun back up and around. Sam braced himself for a spell or a soul-bullet or some new trick no one had ever thought of. Except the gun wasn’t being pointed at him.

“Fool, you’ve brought the enemy’s general right to us,” Crowley snarled. 

He fired off a pair of shots and Sam ducked instinctively. “What?!”

Bela’s mouth tilted up on one side, “Sorry Sam, a girl’s gotta look out for number one.” 

Before Sam could retort, she flung the gates wide, and all of Hell poured into the room. Crowley fired one more shot before grabbing something around his neck and vanishing in a flash of light.

Sam was alone with no way out, and this time he didn’t have a secret weapon up his sleeve. The thing was Winchesters never went down easy. If he was going to die he was going to take as many of them with him as he could.

He fed power into his gun, reaching inside himself for all the dark self-destructive memories he could find. He was the boy-king he was Lucifer’s true vessel. once he had been strong enough to kill a demon with a thought and he reached for that power again now.

It hurt.

It hurt a lot.

Sam screamed and a wave of demons fell before him. Ultra violet light pulsed under his skin. His eyes shifted, not quite black, but no longer completely hazel.

It was a power that couldn’t last, and he knew it.

Sam fell back against the doors to the vault, gasping in the small amount of breathing space he’d made for himself. His hand landed on the handle, the lock. Stumbling sideways he fell back into the vault, pulling the doors closed after him. They shut and locked with a final sounding series of clangs.

Sam was left sitting in the dark, trapped in Hell’s own vault with an army waiting to eat him if he stepped outside. He closed his eyes and didn’t try to stop the tears. He told himself they were from the pain.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess Who's Back!

Gabriel knew the moment Sam stepped into another world. 

He had warned Sam, but his Winchester had always been stubborn. Memories flashed behind his eyes, Michael’s vessel thrown into a thousand ridiculous deaths. He pushed it away. Those weren’t his memories. He had more immediate matters to attend to.

There were a thousand different realms Sam could have vanished to. It wasn’t until the signals from Hell started going insane that Gabriel figured out the truth. Sam had actually, willingly, entered the pit.

The fool. When Gabriel caught up with him, he was going to drag Sam up to heaven where Gabriel could keep an eye on him properly. He’d certainly died enough times and done enough good to earn a place there.

Gabriel watched from just outside Hell’s borders. The moment he entered Abaddon would recognize his presence. Even with all of heaven’s power behind him he couldn’t hope to fight off the last knight of hell in her own domain. He could of course mount a siege. He had the right as ruler of heaven and there were still plenty of grudges left over from the apocalypse, but no. He wouldn’t waste the lives of his brothers and sisters, no matter how just the cause. 

Sam was throwing Hell into chaos and a part of Gabriel reveled in the righteous destruction. He wondered if he would have felt that way before Sam, before Loki. 

So often now he doubted himself, doubted if he was himself. If he was truly the archangel his father had made him, then would he love this human the way he did? They were meant to love humanity as a whole, but he was considering throwing himself into the deepest reaches of Hell, to save one human. It wasn’t completely unprecedented and Sam was one of the chosen of his Father, but Sam’s work should have been done. Why make such a risk for a tool that has already served it’s purpose?

Gabriel prayed for guidance.

 

<><>~<><>~<><>

 

Sam felt like crap.

He’d used too much power and now just moving felt like having knives thrust through his joints. Moving was better than sitting still though. Sitting still only left his body throbbing with his pulse. Moving he could distract himself.

The vault was black as pitch, which was at least better than the angry red of the rest of Hell. Unfortunately it also meant he couldn’t see more than two feet in front of his face. Staying close to the wall of shelves helped him stay upright.

He couldn’t figure out how big the place was. The ceiling was too high to touch and after thirty steps down the first isle of shelves he stopped counting. It wasn’t like it mattered. There was only one thing that Sam actually cared about finding, well two, but Crowley had already escaped with the colt.

The fifth row of shelves Sam found was full of books. They were bound in a thousand different styles, and written in a thousand different languages. Needle in a haystack. There had to be some kind of system, but he was simply too exhausted for puzzles right now.

He slumped to the floor, staring at the opposite shelf. The titles were all in the same ancient language at least. Something that looked like Arabic but didn’t have the right syntax for it. There were index cards poking out of most of them.

Bringing a hand up, he fumbled at the nearest book, pulling at the index card. He doesn’t bother to stop the quiet laugh when he sees the numbers. A seemingly random sequence, with a few letters thrown if for good measure. Another secret that the ancient demons would take years to figure out. 

It’s a standard library code, the same type that he’s been studying for years all over the country. This collection is a lot larger than most but with that point of reference, he stumbles back to his feet. 

Sam loses his place more than once, and ends up checking the books every few minutes. Each step was an effort. When he finally found the right shelf he had to sit down and catch his breath. He has no idea how long he’s been in the vault, let alone Hell. 

He’s not getting out. Not without a miracle. 

He hugs the book to his chest when he finds it, slumping to the floor again. He’ll just close his eyes for a minute. Just to gather his strength. 

Someday someone will open the vault and find his soul tethered to a dusty set of bones. Or maybe not, can a person become a ghost in Hell?

Light.

Sam slams his eyes shut. It hurts after so long in the dark, but there’s something about it that makes him want to pull it into him. Drink it down and replace the empty hole where the dregs of his soul are frantically pulsing. There’s a figure standing over him. Sam can see his halo even with his eyes shut.

“Sam.” The voice rings through his head. It’s angry but Sam would listen to it for the rest of eternity, because he knows that voice. As impossible as it seems this is Gabriel.

Sam reaches out, then starts to fall, unable to even keep his balance. The angel caught him, pulling him close. He ran a hand over his face and Sam sighed as his aches slowly faded.

“How are you here?” He whispered, opening his eyes. 

Gabriel was just as glorious as he remembered, golden hair and shimmering eyes and a light falling from behind him like light off water: wings. Okay that last part was new, but he wasn’t exactly going to complain.

“What else am I supposed to do when you throw yourself into Hell while still alive? You are lucky I don’t give up what’s mine.”

Sam grinned. “Careful, that’s almost something Loki would say.”

Gabriel scowled, “Would the pagan take you to heaven and bind you there so you can’t cause any more trouble?”

Sam knew this was his chance, but he was so tired. He buried his face in Gabriel’s chest and let go. 

 

<><>~<><>~<><>

 

Gabriel lifted Sam into his arms as the human gave into his exhaustion. Sam was luckier than he knew. If he didn’t have Gabriel’s mark, he’d never have been able to find him in time. In this case the mark had acted as a door allowing Gabriel to fold space and travel directly to him, bypassing all defenses and enemies. If he’d had to besiege Hell’s gates, Sam would have never had a chance.

And it was the trickster, Loki, who had marked Sam. He wanted to rail against the pagan, but he knew that other that had been himself, loved Sam just as much as he did. Sam had memories with him, that he couldn’t remember. It made him uncomfortable. 

But now was not the time to dwell on it. If Sam stayed in this damned realm, his soul would only fade further. 

Gabriel looked into the ether and felt for his other beacon. The prophet, safe in the bunker that had once belonged to the men of letters. 

Wrapping Sam in his wings, he grasped space, and twisted it around them, leaving Hell behind.  


	19. Chapter 19

The men of letter’s bunker was a hive of anxious activity. Dean was the center of it. He paced from table to table, picking up books and putting them down. He’d glare at his phone, jamming the buttons in angry texts, and jump on anyone who called attention to themselves.

The others were trying to be as industrious and unnoticeable as possible. Kevin, and Henry were in full research mode, piles of old books forming a wall between them and the stormcloud dean was generating. Charlie was furiously typing at her computer. Bobby had returned to the bunker with them and had a full ritual set up spread over the map table. He’d already gone through half a dozen locater spells and was just getting started. 

Cas was the only person who seemed willing to meet Dean’s eye. “There was no sign of a struggle.” He reminded the hunter for what had to be the tenth time.

“No, he was only talking about assaulting Hell.” Dean snarled.

“He’s as skilled as any of us, he can take care of himself.” 

“Not with Crowley ready to stick a knife in his back.” Dean’s voice rose to a shout. Kevin flinched behind them. Cas clenched his jaw.

“We will find him. You should rest. If he does need you, you won't be able to help him if you wear yourself out.”

Dean turned and stepped into Cas’s space, snarling. “What would you know about it.”

For a moment Cas looked like the angel he had been, iron in his spine and an expression like granate. “I know everything you’ve taught me. I’ve watched both of you for a long time. I have faith in him. You should too.”

Dean seemed to deflate, his head falling forward onto Cas’s shoulder while his hand came up to clutch at his coat.

“After all this…” He trailed off.

Cas hesitated, then brought up his arms and wrapped Dean in an awkward hug. “I know.”

Dean took a shuddering breath to respond, but before he could there was the rush of wings and the whoosh of displaced air. Dean stiffened. Cas twisted around to see who had arrived.

No one spoke as Gabriel looked around. He had Sam in his arms. It looked awkward but Gabriel showed no signs that he even noticed Sam’s weight.

Gabriel seemed to find what he was looking for and crossed to a loveseat tucked into the corner of the library. With a thought the couch lengthened so it was long enough for him to lay Sam out. 

Dean had to fight not to punch the angel. Misplaced aggression had helped in the past after all, but if things were anywhere close to what they looked like, then Gabriel had probably saved Sam’s life.

“Is he?”

“Alive, unconscious. He nearly used up his soul. It will take him a while to recover. See that he doesn’t do something so foolish again,” Gabriel said. He stood and stepped back, giving Dean the room to fall to his knees and check his brother’s pulse. 

Cas caught Gabriel’s arm before he could vanish. “Wait.”

Gabriel gave him a warning look. Not quite the disgusted look a human or heaven forbid, a demon would have gotten but not far off.

“You must know that if you aren’t here when he wakes up, he’ll just run straight into the fire again.”

“I’ve warned him…”

Cas snorted, “When do humans listen to the warnings of heaven? I would know.” He met Gabriel's eyes and hoped that Gabriel could see the honesty and hope in his soul. “Please brother.”

Gabriel removed his arm from Cas’s grip but didn’t vanish, instead he looked back at Sam. “They are stubborn creatures.”

“These two more then most,” Cas agreed.

“I will not return your grace.” It was a warning but Cas couldn’t help but also see it as a gift.

“I am not ready to return to heaven yet.“ He agreed. Then, “Thank you, for helping Sam.”

Gabriel let his head fall to one side and his gaze went distant. “I…” he shook his head. “Father’s favorites are always difficult.”

Cas hummed noncommittally. 

“I couldn’t stop myself.” Gabriel admitted. “I knew he was only one man. His task is complete and he made his choices.”

“If what Sam has told me of the time Dean and I were in purgatory is accurate, then I doubt you could forsake Sam any more than I could forsake Dean.” Cas waited for Gabriel to look at him. “It’s alright to love them. Talk to him, when he wakes.”

Gabriel looked back at Sam’s sleeping form, and slowly nodded. “If I am to stay I should commune with the host.” He settled into a chair, folded his hands in front of him, fingers laced and closed his eyes, in what might have been meditation, or prayer.

“Well, if you idjits are sorted then, I’m going to make some coffee.” Bobby stood and headed for the kitchen, Kevin and Charlie gratefully following. 

Henry looked like he was dying to ask some questions, but refrained at a look from Cas. “I’ll put something on the stove,” he offered instead, following the others out.

Cas pulled up a chair for dean, and then one for himself. He didn’t have to say that one of them would always be there, watching, until Sam woke. 


	20. Chapter 20

Sam woke up somewhere soft and warm, which was a bit of a surprise to his sleep addled mind. Then he saw golden eyes. Gabriel had saved him, moreover he was still around. He briefly wondered if he'd died and Gabriel had dragged him to heaven.

“I did consider it.” Gabriel said, reading his mind.

Before Sam could respond, Dean pushed the archangel aside. “Sam? Hey, how you feeling? You okay?”

He did inventory. Sam was sore, like down to his bones sore. He hadn't felt this bad without actual broken bones since the demon blood detox. Still he could wiggle his toes and all his fingers responded.

“I'll be okay,” he grunted.

Dean properly translated that to a pain level of ten out of ten and said, “I'll get you some painkillers.”

Sam tried to nod, but winced, then he tried to smile instead but that hurt too.

  
  


Gabriel frowned at him, then reached forward and touched his forehead. Cold radiated from his touch, numbing the pain to a bearable level.

“You damaged your soul. It will take at least a month, with several life affirming experiences to repair the damage.”

“Life affirming experiences huh? Are you volunteering?”

Gabriel cocked his head to the side. “I don't remember you being so crude.”

“Yeah well, I have to make up the surplus when you slack off don't I.”

“I am not slacking off. I am in fact more busy then I have been in millenia. You should be grateful I am here at all.”

“Yeah? Why are you here then?”

Gabriel frowned , but it wasn't directed at Sam. It was more inward, as if he wasn't sure how to answer, or maybe didn't like the answer he had.

“If I was not, you would try something else foolish.”

Sam smiled, “If it meant getting you back.”

This time the frown was directed at Sam. “The next time you put yourself in danger I'll let you die and keep you in heaven where I can keep an eye on you.”

“No you won't.”

“Oh? And why is that?”

“Because you love me.”

Gabriel stopped. He couldn't deny it, that much Sam could tell from his face, but he still didn't seem comfortable. Sam swallowed the pain and levered himself up onto one elbow. Gabriel kept his hand touching the side of his face, so it wasn't totally excruciating. Sam leaned in and softly kissed Gabriel on the lips. It was chaste and nothing to brag about since Gabriel didn't respond. After a second Sam leaned back. His heart had sunk, but he refused to show his disappointment. Instead he smiled.

“I love you too.”

“You loved what I was before. That was a mistake. I never should have taken up with the pagans. It was a moment of weakness. I was angry at my brothers, and my Father for letting my brothers act as they did.”

Sam eased himself back onto the couch. “Bit more than a minute.”

Anger flashed in Gabriel's eyes, but before he could respond, Dean returned. He had a handful of pills in one hand, an opened beer dangling from his fingers. In the other hand he had a bag of frozen peas in a hand towel, and an electric blanket. Sam downed the pills, then sipped at the beer, while Dean spread the electric blanket out over him. The peas went on his forehead. Since Gabriel had backed away the pain had returned, but not quite to the levels it had been.

“Okay,” Dean said, once he didn't have anything to do anymore, “You need anything else? You hungry, I can make you a sandwich, or--”

Sam interrupted him, “actually, some soup?”

“Soup,” Dean repeated, “Right, I can do that. You just stay right there.”

Sam wasn't actually hungry, but he needed to finish his conversation with Gabriel. The soup would provide the double purpose of keeping Dean in the kitchen and providing something he could actually swallow.

When Dean had left the room Gabriel turned back to Sam. He pulled up a chair and sat so they were closer to eye level. The short break seemed to have let him get control of himself, since his expression had gone back to angelic stillness.

“You can not comprehend the sensation of having two minds, so I will forgive that remark.”

Sam snorted, “Well maybe I won't forgive that remark. I've been possessed by demons and angels. I've been high on drugs and magic, I've fought against a destiny that everything was telling me was inevitable. I may not know what it's like to be a god but I know more then most. I might get it if you bothered to talk to me.”

Again Gabriel fell silent. Sam gave him a minute to come up with something, before he spoke again.

“Do you know what I've been doing that got me in so much trouble?”

“No Sam, I do not.”

“I've been trying to find a way to talk to Loki. Well, it's a bit more complicated than that. I was hoping to get the Gabriel I knew back, but If I could just talk to Loki's spirit, I would know if that's even possible.”

“I’m not gone.” Gabriel, surprisingly, didn’t sound angry.

“But you’re not here either.”

The silence stretched again. Sam shifted until he was sitting up a bit more.

“Did you really hate it so much? I mean I know when you were a trickster you hurt people, but only people who deserved it, and then… with me….” Sam trailed off. He managed to keep his eyes on Gabriel, even if he had to blink a few times, so it was the angel who looked away.

“I…” he stopped, swallowed, “it was a short time, but…. I did enjoy your light. I do, enjoy your light.”

Sam reached out and took Gabriel’s hand. He wasn’t strong enough to squeeze it very hard, but he thought he got the message across.

“If you could go back to that, would you consider it? I mean, I love you. I will love you even if you never went back to that, but just throwing away centuries of experience doesn’t seem right.”

Gabriel looked down at his hands. “It can never be exactly like it was before. Loki and I… we had an agreement. That contract is now void.”

“But you could make a new one.”

The angel slowly nodded, “theoretically.”

“So, would you? If you had the chance?” Sam offered up the question with a silent prayer. Even if Gabriel could hear it, and Sam knew that was the case, it wasn’t as if his bias wasn’t already clear.

In the silence that followed Sam wished that he had Gabriel’s ability to read minds. The expressions that flitted over Gabriel’s expression nearly too fast to see, made Sam guess that he was reliving old memories, trying to analyze them maybe.

“Loki was…” he trailed off, then shook his head. “I have often wondered what my Father would think about my choices. What he would think about who I have become.”

Sam kept his voice low, only posing the question aloud because he knew Gabriel would pick up on it anyway. “What would he think about you turning back now?”

“I do not know.”

Sam shrugged. “Well, I certainly don’t. Besides it doesn’t matter what he thinks, only what you think.”

Gabriel sat up straighter, his posture perfect, “I do not think anything. Only what is best for the betterment of Heaven.”

Sam lifted an eyebrow. “That’s contradictory, and actually, just outright wrong.” He met Gabriel’s gaze, “A being with free will can’t just not use it. Even the act of submission is a choice. And you do have free will. You wouldn’t have been able to run away in the first place if you didn’t.”

That caught Gabriel off guard and his posture fell back into something more natural.

“Forget Heaven, just for a moment. Think about what you want to do. What would make you happy and fulfilled? If you were happiest working with Loki, well, I think I can summon him now. You could at least talk to him. If you can’t work something out… well… at least you’ll know.” Sam wanted his voice to come out strong, but instead it just came out kind of uncertain.

Gabriel sat back and narrowed his eyes. “It seems to me, that even if I choose otherwise, you will attempt the spell.”

Sam put on a half smile even as his eyes fought not to close. The little bit of energy he had was fading fast.

“Well, you’re not the only one who wants to know.”

Gabriel leaned forward and brushed a strand of hair away from his face. “Fine. Prey for me when you perform the ritual, but promise me you will rest first.”

Sam leaned into Gabriel’s touch. “Will you stay?”

“For a little bit. Go to sleep.”

Sam tried to stay awake, but it was one battle he couldn’t win.

 

By the time Dean came in with Sam’s soup, Sam was asleep, one hand stretching towards the chair where the archangel no longer sat.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow, look another chapter. I actually used nano to get several chapters done so there should be regular updates for a bit. On that note, i do need a beta so if anyone would like to volunteer.....


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A wonderful thank you to Xmasgirl77 for the beta of this chapter. :)

 

Every day of his recovery, Sam prayed to Gabriel. It was just little things. He never asked for Gabriel to visit him, despite how much he wanted to. Instead he whispered I love you’s and did everything he could to rebuild his strength as quickly as possible. If that meant jerking off thinking of Gabriel’s talented hands and mouth, rather than relaxing while watching the sunset, then that was his own business.

It took six weeks before he was prepared to do the spell.

Meanwhile, Dean looked after him in his gruff, older brother way, at least once he was certain Sam wasn’t going to keel over at any second. At this point, he knew Sam wasn’t going to stop, but he’d also promised not to run off alone again, so Dean figured things were as good as they were going to get.

The night before they were going to head out, Sam went to bed early. Dean watched him go and took another sip of his beer. They’d been through this potential “last night” shit more than he could count, but it never got any easier. Before Purgatory, he’d have been out trolling bars, telling the girls he wanted some fun before he got shipped off in the morning or a similar lie. That kind of effort wasn’t appealing right now though, and he wouldn’t do that to Cas.

Cas came back from the kitchen and passed him another beer. Dean hadn’t even realized he was almost out. The former angel sat down beside him and it was easy to lean over, clink their bottles together and then just stay. Even human, Cas was strong enough to hold him up.

He breathed into Dean’s hair, then tipped his head and Dean could feel the kiss on his jaw. They hadn’t moved forward much in their relationship, even if Dean had been thinking about it more and more often as Sam healed. He still didn’t really think of himself as gay or anything, but Cas seemed to be the exception to everything.

Cas nuzzled a bit lower, behind his ear, and Dean hummed in appreciation. The thought that they could had occurred to him. Dean turned his head and met Cas’s lips with his own. This was familiar and comfortable. At first Cas had been hesitant to kiss Dean with his mouth open, always just pecking him on the lips, at least after that first time. Dean didn’t know if he hesitated because he didn’t want to push Dean or if it was his own lack of experience, but Dean coaxed him into something deeper without too much trouble.

Sam had only caught them once. He’d looked surprised for all of ten seconds then covered his eyes and made a big deal about seeing things he was never meant to. Dean knew he approved just because of that. If he hadn’t, then he would have just given one of his bitch faces and continued with whatever he was doing. That was what he did with the girls Dean used to pick up, as if ignoring them would somehow make them leave faster.

Dean licked at the seam of Cas’s mouth and Cas’s tongue followed him back into his own. The hunter had to twist around until he was sitting sideways in his chair to make it work properly, and after a minute of working each other up, Dean had to pull back or get a crick in his neck. Cas started to follow, breathing heavily.

“Wait,” Dean panted. He had his hand on Cas’s upper thigh, and he could feel the tent there, obvious and inviting. He wanted…. “I want to fuck you.”

Cas’s hips rocked up as if he couldn’t stop them. “Dean,” his name came out as a gasp, “are you sure?”

“If you want to,” Dean nodded.

“Heavenly Father yes.” Cas pressed his body against Dean’s, capturing his mouth again. It was uncoordinated and Dean had to pull back again, this time for air.

“My room,” Dean said and pulled Cas to his feet.

Dean had chosen a room several doors down from Sam when they’d first gotten settled. He was never more grateful for the extra space then he was now. Waking Sam up on his first night with Cas was not in the plan.

Cas had his hands on Dean’s belt as soon as the door was closed and Dean had to grab his hands to stop them.

Cas looked bereft for a minute before Dean said, “Shoes first.”

Cas laughed, just a short bark, but it somehow made things easier. Dean flopped down on his bed, starting on his shoes, as Cas bent to his own. The view of Cas’s ass all bent over like that was distracting enough that Dean only had one shoe off when Cas stood and started on the buttons of his shirt. He’d taken to wearing plaid under the new denim jacket they’d found for him and each bit of skin bared made Dean’s cock throb.

They were doing this. They were really doing this. He was going to fuck Cas. No, he decided, he was going to make love to Cas. Dean didn’t know if Cas was still a virgin in all ways, if he’d ever had an angel girlfriend or something, but he was definitely a virgin in this way. Dean was going to make it good for him. He’d make sure that every time after this, any other partner he’d ever have would be nothing in comparison.

Cas dropped his shirt to the floor, and looked at Dean. One hand was hovering in front of him as if he was unsure if he should be covering his erection or removing his pants. Dean realized with a start that he’d been staring rather than taking off his clothes.

“You’re gorgeous,” he said trying to reassure his angel, “Can’t believe I get to have you.”

Cas smiled and he was blushing but he didn’t look away. “Always.”

And what could Dean possibly say to that? He pulled Cas in and kissed him again, then groaned into it as Cas tugged at his collar.

“Please Dean.”

“Yeah. Fuck Cas, yeah.” Dean gasped as Cas trailed a hand higher on his thigh. Except his shoe was in the way, because it was still on his foot and his foot was in his lap and this was why he’d said the shoes had to go. Cas seemed to be thinking along the same lines, because with a few deft tugs he had the laces free and the boot off. He guided Dean’s foot to the ground and settled between his knees.

Dean knew exactly what it looked like, but didn’t dare ask if Cas was actually going to do something down there, at least not before Cas opened his pants and licked his lips as he stared at the bulge in his boxers.

“Cas, you don’t have to. I mean, fuck I want you to suck me, but you don’t have to if you don’t want to. I don’t want this over too fast.”

“Then…” Cas hesitated and suddenly looked unsure. That was something Dean could handle.

“Up here,” Dean nodded at the head of the bed.

They shuffled around, Dean finally getting his shirt off and kicking his pants into a corner as Cas sat cross-legged by the headboard.

Looking over at Cas, Dean smiled, “Like this.” He coaxed Cas to stretch out his legs, and slump down on the single pillow. Dean made a mental note to get a few more for next time. Except the thought got derailed when Cas trailed his fingers up his chest, looping one around his neck while the other traced patterns into his muscles. Cas under him, stretched out chest to chest, Dean had to admit this was that was the perfect position to kiss him.

It wasn’t long before Cas was rocking his hips up while Dean pressed down. Even with layers of cotton and denim between them, it was amazing. God, it had been way too long since he got laid if he was this close from just a bit of rutting. Then again, it had been a long time since he’d actually cared about anyone he went to bed with. 

Cas wrapped a leg around Dean’s hips, and pulled him in. His hands were tracing patterns on Dean’s back, nails digging in. His breath was coming out in little gasps of  “Dean, Dean.”

“Shhhh, Cas, Easy. I’ve got you.” Dean tried to pull back. He had to get control of himself if this was going to last at all.

Cas whimpered and bit his lip, “Please Dean.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay.” Dean took a shaky breath managed to fumble the lube out of his bedside table and shuffled down Cas’s body. Cas hissed when Dean opened his pants. The hunter urged him to lift his hips and managed to tug Cas’s pants and boxers down. As Cas was kicking them off he popped open the lube, spreading it over his fingers. He tore open a condom with his teeth, and had to fight to roll it on properly with his hands already slippery. 

Cas was moaning deep in his chest as he watched Dean. His hands scrabbled for Dean’s shoulders and landed in his hair. It made Dean stop even though he’d just got his hands on Cas’s cock, thumb following the vein up to the head. 

“This okay?” He was already trying to backtrack, think of other options. If Cas wanted to top he could do that… but Cas just growled.

“Dean if you don’t get on with it and fuck me I will make sure you never forget it.”

Dean nods, his mouth going dry at the deep note of command in Cas’s voice. Fuck he was in love with this man. Dean had to fight not to rub off against the mattress. He gave Cas’s cock a loose stroke, to spread the lube around, then aimed lower.

Cas’s hole was as tight as any Dean had ever had the opportunity to sample. He tried to take his time opening Cas up, but between the sounds Cas was making and the way he shivered around Dean’s fingers, Dean knew he wasn’t focusing as much as he should.

“I’m ready,” Cas gasped when Dean had three fingers in him.

“It’ll be easier if you--”

“Dean!” Cas warned.

“Right yeah,” Dean reminded himself that he was the one with the experience in this relationship and helped Cas lift his hips so he could line himself up. He pushed in slowly, trying to let Cas ease into it, but God he was still so tight. Dean swallowed down a moan and started counting doubles. He was sure Cas would forgive him, but he’d never live it down if he came before he was even fully inside Cas.

The former angel wasn’t having any of it. His head was tipped back exposing the long line of his throat as he thrust back into Dean. When the hunter didn’t move fast enough for him, Cas looked up under his lashes and seemed to come to a decision. He levered himself up on his elbows and pulled away until Dean slipped out of him. Cas leaned forward to kiss Dean before he could protest. With one hand on Dean’s chest he straddled the other man’s lap and let himself sink back onto Dean’s cock. Cas wrapped his legs around Dean’s waist and his arms around Dean’s neck. He knew it would be harder to thrust like that, but the feeling of Dean inside him and the way it was so easy to kiss him made it worth it.

Dean broke the kiss, closing his eyes and uttering a few muffled curses, as Cas sank all the way down to his hips. For a minute they sat, shivering in each others embrace. Then Dean rolled his hips up and Cas met him rocking back down. Both of them knew it wasn’t going to last long. Dean took Cas’s cock in a slick hand, tempting him over the edge first, before falling off after him. Dean fought through the spots in his eyes to find Cas leaning in for another desperate kiss.

“I love you,” Dean whispered when the kiss softly ended.

“I love you too,” Cas whispered, “I’ve always loved you.”

They managed to shift so they were lying down, still wrapped in each other. Sleep came to them both easier than it had in a long while.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As before, a wonderful thank you to Xmasgirl77 for the beta of this chapter. :)

Dean drove the three of them down to Florida with Sam riding shotgun. Cas sat serenely in the back seat. A small smile, the only trace of what they had done. Dean seemed determined not to let it lighten his mood, switching between griping that this was a bad idea and stubborn silence. 

Neither of them were trying to keep it a secret, and Sam hadn’t mentioned it either. He knew they were happy, and that was enough. He hoped that by the end of the day, he could share that joy.

The Elysian Fields hotel was deserted. When Dean pulled off the road onto the cracked pavement of the parking lot, it was like they were the first people to set foot there since Lucifer’s massacre. The air itself felt heavy, not just humid, but threatening. There were no animal sounds to break the silence, not even a bit of breeze to rustle the trees. As if to make up for it, the plants had taken over. Long wispy beards of moss hung from the trees like curtains, while crawling vines with big flat leaves and blackberries crawled the walls, arching over the doorways in a morbid mockery of Victorian style.

Sam stepped out of the car as Bobby pulled in behind them. He had all the ritual equipment in the back of the truck that he’d borrowed from the Men of Letters bunker. On the other side of the car, Dean was muttering to Cas. Sam let the sound of them drift into the background.

He stepped forward without really thinking about it. This place was dangerous, but it was a quiet, lurking kind of danger… and he needed to see. 

The door had been left standing open. Sam brushed aside moss and cobwebs. He had a flashlight ready but it turned out he didn’t need it. The once magnificent hotel still had enough glass and mirrors that even the faint afternoon light that managed to filter in was enough to see  by. Dean was calling his name from outside, but as soon as he entered the building it sounded far away and unimportant.

Chairs were turned over, the upholstery water stained, but still whole. The front desk was covered in dust. The monitor had fallen to one side, spiderweb cracks spreading across its surface. Sam had expected bodies, but there weren’t any, only the occasional splash of long dried blood that no one had been around to clean up.

Sam easily remembered the way to the ballroom where the gods had had their meeting. He stood in the doorway, unable to enter. The room was the same. The tables tossed to the side, flung up against the walls when Lucifer had attacked, and there in the center of the room were three sets of soot black wings etched into the floor, as if it had happened only moments ago. There were no plants in this room, no dust on the ground. It was as if time had stopped.

After so much power had been unleashed, Sam figured that was one of the tamer results. They could have ended up with half the state blown off the map, or a mass of ice or lightning, the dead rising as their keepers were slain.

“Sam?”

He tore his eyes away to where Cas stood at the end of the hallway.

“Are you alright?”

Sam took a slow breath, “Yeah. It’s just, this place.”

“Yes, the ground has been tainted.” Cas shivered then visibly straightened. Stepping forward, he handed Sam a brush and hefted the paint bucket he was carrying. Sam nodded and they stepped through the doorway together.

Sam held his breath, then slowly let it out as nothing happened. Together, they got to work sketching out the seal for the ritual. 

 

~~~*~*~*~~~

 

It took several hours before all of them were satisfied. There was an outer ring of protection, that kept them hidden, then an inner ring where the ritual would actually take place. It was agreed that Bobby would stay by the outer ring, as a lookout, while the others activated the spell.

Gabriel arrived just as they were finishing up. He hadn’t said a word one way or the other, just nodded to Sam and let them put the finishing touches on everything.

Bobby nodded, wishing them luck, before Sam knelt and started the chant.

It was a bit like what had happened with Kali. Sam briefly felt like he was in two places at once. Then the world shifted and faded away around them. Sam could still feel the grip Dean had on his shoulder, but he couldn’t see him, or the others. Everything was a gray mist, filled with unseen swirling patterns of potential. There were voices out there, ancient and echoing in languages that hadn’t been spoken on Earth for centuries. 

From somewhere at his side, Gabriel spoke in a voice that should have shattered Sam’s ears.

“Loki, we need to talk.”

There was a green-gold light and a laugh that Sam recognised. Then the presence at his side was gone.

A second later, he heard Dean saying, “Cas?” and his hand was gone from Sam’s shoulder. Sam staggered to his feet, and somehow knew that he was alone. Except he wasn’t alone and that was the problem.

The whispering from the mist grew louder, forming actual words. Words Sam really didn’t want to hear.


	23. Chapter 23

Cas recognized the space between the worlds. Many creatures used it to build nests or dreamscapes. The angels used it as a stepping stone when flying, stepping out of the world and then back into it in a different place. He’d never seen it as a human before. His human mind tried to comprehend the possibilities this place represented and only came up with smoke. 

Something brushed his shoulders, an echo of feathers and the sound of bells. He gasped, reaching out for the feeling of grace, of what he was, his brothers calling to him in the choir. He’d thought his grace was secured in heaven, but this was a place of possibilities….

Cas recognized his own memories and hopes were shaping the space around him at the same time he realized that he’d let go of Dean’s hand.  

 

~~~*~*~*~~~

 

Dean lost track of Cas’s hand. He groped for it in the mist and caught hold of something, a hem or a sleeve.

“Cas?” Dean called, trying to get him back. Cas didn’t know how dangerous rituals like this could be. He was used to being an angel, a hundred times more powerful than he was now. Dean lunged after him, trying to keep him close. He stumbled, even though there was nothing to stumble on, and suddenly Dean was alone.

Except he wasn’t alone.

The ground rippled out from where he was on his hands and knees, the mist giving way to something solid. Rocky soil and scrub grass, heather tossed by a sea breeze.  Dean slowly stood, looking around as the landscape was painted into existence around him. A rocky shore with twisted pines creaking in the wind off the sea. A half dozen small boats flying red banners bobbed just beyond the wave line and Dean heard the distant sound of swords even though no one was in sight. No one except the man who had created the landscape, someone Dean really didn’t want to see.

He offered his hand. The man was dressed in leather armor with a circular shield and a sword half as tall as he was. He had long blond hair that glittered in the sun and his smile was nearly blinding. For a moment he seemed to have a second face under the first, a second body wearing a tailored suit, and that one Dean recognised; Baldor, leader of the godly renegades. God of the sun in Norse Mythology, he was said to be the most charming god of that pantheon, he was a child of Odin, and a warrior at least equal to his brother Thor. Dean had made sure to do his research in case someone they didn’t invite decided to show up.

“Well met Dean Winchester. Your bravery the last time we spoke was impressive.”  

Oh good, one of the gods he’d gotten killed thought he was impressive, at least it was better than the alternative. He didn’t have much choice but to take the offered hand and let Baldor help him to his feet.

“Right, thanks, but I really should get back to Cas and Sam.”

Baldor waved a hand, “Your brother and friend have are being entertained elsewhere. You have a more immediate matter to attend to, though it does do you honor to consider your allies before all else.”

Dean rolled one shoulder and glanced around again. If there was a way back to the others he wasn’t seeing it. He did not want to sit around chatting with a dead god, but it looked like he didn’t have much of a choice. 

“Okay, so ah…”

“You have a choice to make,” Baldor interrupted, “I am here to aid you. Your life is full of strife, Dean Winchester. So far you have done well to manage it as well as you have, but there are new threats on the horizon. The Knight who rules Hell will stop at nothing until she has created the next Dark Age. You will stand against this foe, it is your nature and your destiny.”

“Skip to the end.”

“Excuse me?”

“Look if you really want to help me then killing me is probably off the table. I’ve got to get back to my friends so if we could just skip to the end of the big speech, that’d be great.” Dean looked up at the god, not quite daring him to argue.

Baldor looked down at Dean. His expression was serious, but he didn’t seem like he was going to smite him or anything.

“You need my power. Accept my mantel and you will be able to face your enemies on even footing. You will be able to protect your family and friends. Bed whoever you want. See the world in glory without the limitations of the road at your feet.”

Dean paused until he was sure the other man was done.

“Seriously, you want me to let you in and become your vessel? No offense man, but you really need to do your homework. I told an archangel to go fuck himself for months. There’s no way I’m going to go belly up and agree to be your vessel just like that.” The fact that the god was offering to get people in his bed? Well, he was a few days too late for that. And the road crap? Was he trying to piss Dean off? No one insulted his baby.

Dean waited for the ghost of the god to kill him or drive him crazy, or whatever. 

Baldor slowly lifted his chin, but didn’t say anything. Dean waited. Still nothing. After another minute Dean took a half step back and looked around.

“Okay, good talk. I’ll just, go then.”

Dean turned and looked around, trying to figure out the best way to get back to the misty landscape of the spell. Except this probably still was the spell. So where were Cas and Sam?

A knot slowly started forming in his gut as he realized he was trapped.

 

~~*~~*~~*~~

 

Cas sighed as the fog rolled away from his feet. This was not supposed to happen. He had only come along to reassure Dean and provide backup. He didn’t want to speak to any of the gods who had died here.

Green spread out from his feet, a river of clear water with reeds and tall palm trees, vines and large-leaved flowering bushes. There was a low stone bench, with a watering can propped on one end. A man knelt next to the bench. He had dark hair and skin the color of rich soil, but it was his eyes that spoke of his true nature. They held a depth and knowledge of centuries. He looked up as if just noticing Cas, brushed off his hands and stood.

“Castiel, or you go by Cas now, is that right?”

Cas nodded, squinting against the bright light that filtered through the leaves.

“Good, and welcome. My garden is not as great as it once was, but please rest here for a time. I have a proposition for you.”

Cas considered the other man. In the past he would have been able to tell at a glance what kind of god this man was and where in the world he hailed from. He tried to remember the descriptions that Dean had given him, and the comments in the Gospels, but nothing seemed to match up. Not that Dean had seen every god to attend. From his own account, he had been sent out of the room fairly early in the process.

“Who are you?”

“I am Geb, of the Pesedjet. God of the Earth and all that grows on it. You are a friend to this world are you not, Cas?”

“I am, but I am not a friend of yours.” the Pesedjet was the Egyptian pantheon. More than once, they had clashed with the host of Heaven. Geb was mostly peaceful from what he knew, but like all gods, his wrath could be terrible. 

“What is in the past is in the past,” Geb said, seeming to read his thoughts. “You are no longer allied with Heaven. They took your power and cast you out. It was the Earth that accepted you as it’s own.”

“No,” Cas interrupted, “It was the Winchesters. I know what you want, but I will not be the next host for your power. I do not want to be a god. That lesson is one I have already learned. Now, excuse me, I must return to my friends.”

Cas bowed to the Earth god, then took a slow breath. It wasn’t easy calling on the power he would need to escape this bubble, but he’d learned how to move through this space as an angel and the skill was still there. The spell was his anchor point, he only needed to use it.

With a step, the garden faded back into the swirling mists, leaving him alone.

 

~~*~~*~~*~~

 

Gabriel and Loki vanished, then Dean and Cas were gone too. Sam took a slow breath. He was the one who had performed most of the spell. He was the one anchoring it. He had to trust that Loki and Gabriel would work things out. Once that happened, well…he could ask them to find Dean and Cas, or something. He wasn’t sure what would happen if he shut down the spell without them.

He had to hold it together, find a way to keep going until they found their way back.

Under his feet grass sprouted. Sam clenched his fists and counted down from ten. By the time he was finished a temple of white stone had appeared around him. The inner courtyard he was standing in held a manicured lawn with standing stones placed in a pattern he couldn’t understand. In the center was a tree providing shade to a low bench. The man on the bench had the head of an elephant and blue skin. He was writing on a scroll that draped over his knee with one hand while the other picked at a plate of tea cakes.

Ganesha, Sam recognized him immediately. Out of all the gods Sam thought might interfere, Ganesha wasn’t at the top of his list, but he also wasn’t one of the bad ones. Ganesha was said to be the remover of obstacles. He was a scholar, a god of intellect and wisdom. People called on him as an opener of ways. If anything this was a good sign, or it could be.

“Lord Ganesha,” Sam bowed his head in respect.

The elephant headed god looked up, and okay, that was a bit odd, but Sam wasn’t going to point it out.

“Sam Winchester. Do you know why I am here?”

“I have a suspicion you want to ask me to be your new vessel.”

He lifted his trunk and Sam caught sight of the broken tusk he was using as a pen, “We may make a good match, but there is a more accurate term than the one you use. Angels and Demons need vessels because they seek to overpower their host. We gods of this earth cannot be killed the way they can be, but in exchange our will is weaker.  In words you might understand: Demons seek to control you as a captain would a ship. My fellows would leave the host as captain, acting as the wind in the sails instead. They, and I, need a soul that harmonizes with at least an aspect of our power. Whether you could harmonize with my power is yet to been seen.” 

“You have some time yet. Come sit and we can speak,” Ganesha finished.

Sam wasn’t quite sure what to do next. He knew that if he stayed there would be an inherent risk, but also a potential gain. Ganesha had so much knowledge, but Sam could be careful. He just had to watch his words. Be wary what he agreed to. It wasn’t like he could get trapped, he was the center of the spell. Gabriel couldn’t get out of it without him, whether he merged with Loki again or not. If Ganesha tried to keep him here too long then Gabriel would get him out, he was sure of it.

He took a step forward, then hesitated.

“Whatever your choice, you may wish to know that your godfather is alright.”

Sam stiffened, “Bobby?”

“Indeed, sit and I will tell you what occurred.”

Sam sank to the ground in front of the elephant-headed god.

 

~~*~~*~~*~~

 

Crowley never let anything go if he could help it, and Robert Singer was no exception. Yes he’d given the man back his life, at a price of course, and it had served a purpose. He’d learned a lot about the Winchesters’ plans from listening to Sam, even more once he knew where to look. 

As much as it disagreed with him to say it, those brothers were the best chance when it came to taking down Abbadon. When he’d figured out that Sam was trying to resurrect a god, well, it was certainly an idea that struck home. If the god, any god, was resurrected it would certainly owe them a favor or two. That kind of thing was something Crowley normally would have kept as an ace up his sleeve.

He knew within minutes that the Winchesters had left their hideout. He didn’t know where it was exactly because of the warding. Luckily, that same warding would make the spell impossible to perform even if all the other criteria was met. 

He followed them across the country, and finally found them just as the spell was kicking off. Singer, of course, put up a protest.

“Balls,” he grunted, emptying his shotgun at Crowley. He managed to avoid the first shot, then reached out to what was his. The contract seared into Singer’s skin, flaring painfully to life. The hunter managed to hold onto the shotgun for another moment before it clattered to the ground. Bobby collapsed beside it, desperately pulling in air.

“So sorry to take advantage like that. Not really my style, but desperate times.” Crowley stepped over Bobby’s downed form and entered the bubble of light that had just settled into place. “Time to make a deal.”

 

As the hunter fell, he landed on the carefully chalked wards, smudging them. At that moment in the halls of the damned, the Queen of Hell stood from her throne.

“Rally the troops. They’ve made their last mistake.”


	24. Chapter 24

Dean cursed under his breath and searched the shoreline. He wasn’t sure exactly how much time had passed, but it felt like a while. Baldor had settled onto a rock and was watching him. Dean could get about half a mile from the god before he’d get dizzy for a second and find himself walking back in the opposite direction. Dean had tried sneaking away where Baldor couldn’t see him, except there weren’t enough trees to make that more than an exercise in humiliation. 

It hadn’t worked. He’d tried circling the shore, mapping out the territory, but he didn’t know what to do with the information. Dean was contemplating going into the water, seeing if the bubble, or whatever it was, extended over there as well, when there was a flash and the crack of thunder.

Cas stepped out of the air and staggered, collapsing to one knee and panting. Dan ran to his friend’s side, doing a visual check. He didn’t seem to have any injuries.

“Cas, you okay?”

Cas coughed and shook his head, not saying no, but just to clear his eyes. He blinked up at Dean.

“That was harder then I thought it would be.” He took a breath to steady himself, “Who is it? You haven’t agreed to anything have you?”

“Hell no.” Dean assured.

Cas nodded and looked up at the god who had risen to his feet.

“Baldor,” Dean supplied before Cas could ask again. There was clearly more he wanted to say but he held his tongue.

Cas clutched at Dean’s arm as he rose to his feet. “We need to get back to Sam.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice, but how? I’ve been trying to get out of this bubble for a while, and no offense but you don’t look so good.

 

“I will be fine.” Cas started to stand. The ground shook under them, the world flexing around them like the bubble was getting ready to pop.

Baldor was there a second later, “The defenses have fallen. Stand ready.”

“No, that’s not possible, Bobby would have--” Dean tried to argue.

“Your fellows could not stand against all the forces of Hell. It is Abaddon who comes hence, her armies spread around her.”

Dean and Cas both tensed, trying to think of a way out of the situation.

“Can we break the spell?”

Cas shook his head, “It wouldn’t do any good. To get to this pocket they would need a gate and the spell is the gate. If they are here they came through from Earth. Ending the spell would just have us fighting there instead.”

Baldor reached forward, gripping Dean’s shoulder, “Accept my power. The time has come to fight.”

Dean grit his teeth and shook his head. Was that the only option they had? What happened if they died in this between place? Would the demons grab them and drag them down to Hell or would they be stuck here? He’d been through it before, Dean didn’t care about himself, but Cas, he’d only just started figuring out how to be a person, and Sam….

There had to be something.

There was a flicker of a mirage at the edges of the pocket world and dark shapes took form.

“I can hold off the worst of them,” Baldor snarled. “But I am only a shadow of myself. Make your choice.”

Dean reached for the gun in the back of his pants and took aim. He didn’t have a lot of ammo, but this wasn’t the real world, maybe he didn’t have to worry about that. In front of him the shadows twisted, as affected by the god’s realm as anything else, becoming bones and armor, undead warrior, with flames for eyes. Dean would have sworn he’d seen the same crappy effects on late night TV dramas, Zena maybe or Buffy. It didn’t matter, if they were solid, he could shoot them. Dean aimed while Cas pulled out a knife and started muttering spells under his breath.

  
  


~~*~~*~~*~~

  
  


Sam watched Ganesha with growing horror as he described what happened to Bobby and how Dean and Cas were being attacked.

“I have to help them.”

“How,” Ganesha asked, “What would you do that they are not already attempting? Your friend is correct that closing this spell would not benefit you. Here at least they have to fight through the between space to find us. I can hide you for a time. The others provide a good distraction. It is up to you to find a way out.”

Sam clenched his jaw. He didn’t like it, but Ganesha was right. He knew this magic better than anyone. He’d been researching it for months. Moreover Ganesha was a god of success, ignoring his advice would be setting himself up for failure.

“Okay,” Sam took a breath and tried to center himself, “okay. We need an advantage. They have numbers. We need to either match them or make it so the numbers don’t matter.”

The god nodded sagely, “But how is the question. Your enemy is not limited by form here, at least not until they enter the influence of another. Even then, Abaddon is powerful, they will fight whatever influence opposes them.”

“So it becomes a battle of wills, or of the mind.” Sam slowly grinned, “We can do this. I’ve seen her fight. She’s powerful but she’s out of date. She couldn’t get through a simple security system.”

Ganesha lifted his trunk in approval. “It is a good idea, but how will you go about it. The execution is as important as the concept.”

“This space, world, whatever, it’s already malleable. It’s a between place right? That’s why you can create these little pocket worlds.” He nodded, “So I just need to get them into a pocket world I create, where they have to follow my rules.”

“Creating such a place would require a lot of power. I could do it, but I do not have the knowledge to trap her. I too am a bit behind the times, and while I have my talents, I am not a god of war.” Ganesha looked down, at the tusk he was writing with, rolling it between his fingers like a pen. He seemed to pull in on himself, the world becoming a little darker as his shoulders drooped.

“Then I’ll tell you what to do. Please, we can win this.”

The god looked up, “Together then.” Standing he placed himself beside Sam, one hand on his shoulder, “What do you need?”

Sam considered for a brief moment, planning things out, Ganesha’s power a comfortable weight at his back. “Link us up with Dean and Cas if you can. We’re going to need a lot of room for this.”

Sam went with Star Wars, specifically storm troopers. He had a few reasons for choosing the space opera: first, Dean would definitely recognize it while Abbadon definitely wouldn't, second, they didn't belong to any particular landscape so he could choose one that gave him the advantage, third, it was a shape the demons wouldn't fight, since they were basically mind slaves of a grand evil already, but the most important reason was that everyone knew stormtroopers were terrible shots, and in a place like this, that belief meant quite a bit.

Ganesha's power spread out around him like sonar pinging on one, two, six, seven, different active minds, before the hundreds of demons overwhelmed his senses. Sam focused on Dean and Cas and spread out from there. His brother was already in a rocky forest landscape, which suited Sam fine. He tapped into Baldor's pocket world expanding it and adding his own flair. Moments later Dean and Cas stood in an old growth forest, full of trees that were wider around than refrigerators and large ferns creating cover as undergrowth.

Dean cursed as Sam upgraded his weapons and gave him appropriate clothing for the story he was telling, Dean always had liked Han Solo. Except that made Cas Leia since Sam was going Jedi all the way. Sam gave Cas the blaster but left his clothing as it was, he wouldn't get the reference anyway.

With the rules firmly established the demons fell into the roles he'd created for them. White armored bucket-heads fell to their knees, unused to having physical forms and being limited to attacking with weapons as crude as guns, let alone space guns that they didn't understand. A few, those who had been on earth more recently Sam suspected, rallied and started to fan out.

Sam stuck his head out from behind a tree and hissed at Dean, “hey, over here.”

“Sam, what the hell? Are those--?”

“Yeah, stormtroopers, I've got Ganesha playing force for me. You okay?”

Dean ducked as a few of the demon-stormtroopers started figuring out their blasters. They didn't hit anywhere near the trio, but the electric zap of blaster fire triggered the same instinct as the bang of a gun.

“Well other then the army.” Dean waved a hand sarcastically, then ducked again at a second, more confident, volley of blaster-fire. “Wait, did you say--?”

The end of Dean’s sentence was blotted out by the roar of engines that didn’t, couldn’t exist in the real world. A spaceship the size of a tank with a glistening black shell had appeared out of the air flattening the vegetation around it. Sam thought Dean might be cursing, but between the roar and the new terrifying presence he could feel, he wasn’t really paying attention.

Abbadon, it had to be. Ganesha confirmed it a moment latter, showing him the threads of power spreading out from the ship, touching each demon, empowering them and rotting everything else. Baldor was already pressing back against her, but his power was tenuous. Sam might have been the one to shape the world but Baldor was the one supporting it, and that was clearly taking up most of his power. 

Then Abbadon found him. Her power crashed over him like a storm tossed wave, nearly knocking him off his feet. Ganesha anchored him, grounding him in the god's power.

Shit.

“Sam,” a hand was on his shoulder. Cas. Can had pulled him out of the line of fire and was shaking him.

Sam looked up, trying to reconcile the godly battle with the one here on the ground. Dean was taking pot shots at the demontroopers, but the sheer weight of numbers would overwhelm their position before too long.

“Sam, it’s Abaddon isn’t it?”

Sam nodded. “She’s stronger than they are, God Cas, she’s so dark.” Sam didn’t know how else to describe it, He’d been possessed before, been to Hell and back, but Abbadon was a whole other level. She was all that terrible twisted agony and despair condensed and multiplied, and now he could see it. He wanted to throw up, needed some physical reaction to the stain on his mind, but there wasn’t time, and he didn’t technically have a body right now anyway.

“I know,” Cas was saying, “I know, but you can’t focus on it.”

Sam nodded absently, “Right, don’t look into the abyss.”

Dean ducked behind their tree, “If you two are done having a moment, we’ve got incoming. We need a more defensible location.” He scanned the area then nodded at where a pair of fallen trees were leaning against each other about forty feet farther back from the ship then their current position. “There, stay low.”

He fired of a few shots at the demontroopers to give them an opening, and booked it. Cas, followed running sideways so he could keep track of the enemy. Sam’s first instinct had him following the order, but after a step he paused. Abbadon was the Sith in this scenario, and someone had to stop her. It didn’t matter how many demons they took out, they were just fodder, she was the real threat. 

It had to be him. He’d set himself up for it, put himself in Jedi robes and everything. She’d gone toe to toe with Gabriel as a fully powered archangel, Sam really didn’t want to fight her one on one. Except there wasn’t anyone else. With a murmur of will, a lightsaber hung from his belt. Ganesha reminded him that combat was not an attribute of the god’s power. Sam acknowledged that. He’d just have to find another way to win.


	25. Chapter 25

Dean knew Sam had been just behind him, but when he ducked behind the logs he was gone. Cas slid in beside him and finally took a look at the space-gun that had replaced his regular one.

“Where’s Sam?”

“Fighting Abbadon.” Cas didn’t meet his eyes. Instead he braced his elbows on the log and started firing.

“The hell he is!”

“There’s no one else,” Cas bit out, “I barely have the leftover power to see what’s going on.”

Dean was about to protest again even though he didn’t have a solution, when they were overrun.

The demontroopers had apparently figured out that they’d get picked off if they attacked one at a time. Over twenty of them charged all at once, ignoring the guns they didn’t know how to use in favor of raw force. Cas let off a handful of shots but the blaster fire was only slightly more effective than regular bullets would have been.

Dean managed to pull his knife. The demon killing blade hasn’t changed shape or weight, and at a glance the runes are the same, but the moment he has it in hand it starts to glow with green energy. Then The first of the demons hit their log, scrambling over it.

The first of them leapt over the log. Dean ducked. His knife scraped over white plastic. The demon’s momentum carried it into an ungainly roll, and Dean turned to the next of them. 

A fist came at his face. Dean stepped in. His knife swept up, cutting into the black fabric under an arm. The suddenly dead weight landed on him. Dean grunted, trying to twist free. The body fell to the ground. 

Pain lanced across his upper arm, the back of his shoulder. He twisted, even as he screamed. An elbow into the demon’s gut. The armor isn’t as strong as it could be. He can hear the slosh inside the suit. The demon’s gagging but Dean’s arm goes numb from the impact. He ducks low. He can’t feel his hand so he puts his whole weight behind the strike, overkill. The knife slid in beside the crack from his elbow, the green power cutting through the armor like the high budget special effect it was imitating.

Dean pulled the blade out sideways, cutting an ack through the air. The next demon pulled back in time. A second tried to step in before he could change the direction of the strike. Dean’s gun came out. The sound was wrong, zap rather than bang, but it got the job done.

“Dean!” Cas shouted from somewhere nearby.

He screamed wordlessly as his knife found the next target. Still alive. A second slash and it dropped. Feeling was coming back to his fingers. Where was Cas? There.

Cas had his back to the log but he’d been pinned down. There was blood on the ferns. Nothing too bad if he was still fighting back. There were more coming.

Dean shoved aside a demon Cas had shot, even as it toppled over. He grabbed Cas’s wrist and pulled him up. There was blood on his leg, a slash on the back of his thigh.

“I’ll be fine,” Cas grunted. He’d have to be.

The next demontrooper barreled at them like a football player. Momentum carried it through Dean’s shot. Dean pulled Cas to one side. He got hit by another of them for his trouble. His ears rang and he was seeing double. He fell to one knee, slashing blindly with the knife. Someone yelled. 

Dean blinked the stars out of his eyes. Another attack came before he could stand. Dean tried to block, but that only meant it got his shoulder rather than his head. Between the spots still swimming in his vision and his leg he wasn’t sure he could make it to his feet.  

Cas killed it. Cas was amazing. Cas looked down at him. Dean didn't like that expression. Cas started to say something. Dean was having trouble focusing and he had to kill another demon anyway. Dean should help. He tried to stand again, but something was wrong. He looked down and okay, that was a lot of blood. Cas grabbed his good shoulder pulling him out of range of another attack. Cas was saying something. Cas was saying his name. He nodded. No time. Too many of them to talk now.

Dean raised his knife at the next Demon to attack, but before he could kill it properly his leg gave out. His pants were drenched. Clarity cut through his thoughts for one terrifying moment. His leg. They'd hit an artery, or else it was a lot worse than he thought and he just wasn't feeling it yet.

Fuck.

They needed to stop the bleeding. They needed to get somewhere safe. Ha, that was a joke. Where was safe in an imaginary world between worlds?

Cas was doing his best to fight them off. He'd pushed Dean behind him, into the hollow between the two logs, so at least they had a wall to put their back against.

Dean was starting to go numb. His head wasn't improving either. Concussion on top of bleeding out. He had to help Cas. He had to do something. He couldn't die like this. Sure he'd always thought he'd go out with his boots on, but there was no way he was going to leave Cas behind.

Dean found the wound in his leg and tried to put some pressure on it.

There had to be a way, had to be something. What would even happen to his body if he died here? It was like asking what happened if you died in a dream. No, focus. There had to be a way.

Cas cried out, started to fall, then steadied himself. The bodies were piling up around him but it was clearly taking it's toll.

“He won't last much longer.”

Dean managed to turn his head. A stranger stood there. He was a tall thin man in a long coat and a top hat. His cheeks were hollowed out, and for a moment Dean thought Death himself had come to see him off. Then the man glanced down at him and smiled. It changed his demeanor completely. The glint of a gold tooth made him look sharp and the cigar he pulled from a pocket to slip into the corner of his mouth gave a rakish edge to him.

“Course he'll probably last longer then you.”

Dean took in a breath to say something, but stopped when he noticed the smoke. It wasn't going anywhere. It drifted up to about the level of the man's hat brim, then stopped, as if it had nowhere else to go. Dean looked around and it clicked into place. The leaves on the ferns weren't moving. Cas had been planted ready to turn one of the demon's strikes for far too long.

Time had stopped.

“Not truly stopped but they do say things slow down when you're about to die.” The man, god he had to be a god, grinned again. “You may call me Barron. I thought I'd take the chance to introduce myself since you made such an impression on the big boss.”

Dean wasn't sure he could speak, even with time stopping his injuries, but the god seemed to be reading his mind so...

“Ah,” Barron nodded, “God of Death and Resurrection for the Loa. I work in concert with Death, specifically in choosing when and how people pass. Technically you and I have met several times but we've never actually spoken.”

So that was it then, he really was going to die. Dean looked at Cas, desperate in his struggle.

“Interesting. I admit, the little angel is more than he seems, but to be all you think of?” Barron pulled out an old gold pocket watch and checked the time. “Hmm, not long now. Would you like to say goodbye?”

Dean found the strength to lever himself up. “No.”

Barron looked at him and raised an eyebrow.

“You can stop it.”

“To what end?”

“To the end of stopping the demons from killing everyone here. To stop them from hijacking your power for their own ends. To stop me from kicking your ass.” Dean was panting by the end.

The Barron puffed on his cigar, then took it out, smiled and crouched to Dean's level. “Take my power and you can save him yourself.”

There it was.

It was the only way to save Cas, the only way to save himself. A deal with Death. At least it was better then a deal with the devil.

  
  


~~*~~*~~*~~

  
  


There were too many of them. Cas could take them down one on one, but not like this. Every attack, left him open. Again and again he pushed one back only for another to land a hit. Dean was behind him, but Cas couldn't spare a moment to check if he was still alive. At this point even if Sam won, they would lose.

Cas knew the only way to save them.

The part of him that had once been an angel detested the idea. The part of him that had fallen, had followed Dean through Hell and Purgatory and back, knew that he was going to make the choice no matter what the cost

“Balder,” Cas screamed, “I accept.”

The knife he had picked up when Dean had fallen lengthened. It became a sword the length of his arm. Cas Lifted the blade, taking it up along with the responsibility it represented. The Norse god of light, the sun and honorable victory took the field.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I think we can all agree that these guys are self sacrificing idiots. Does this count as another cliffhanger? ... it does doesn't it. sorrynotsorry. ;)


	26. Chapter 26

Sam stepped onto the open field where Abaddon stood and switched on his lightsaber. In the air around them lightning sparked and the long grass bent as if under a weight. A part of him was aware of his energy, Ganesha’s energy, coming into contact with Abaddon’s and rejecting the other like oil and vinegar.  She was powerful and violent like a hurricane, but his own strength wasn’t to be underestimated. It was the strength of an old and sturdy oak, roots deep in the ground anchoring it in place.

Abaddon noticed him at once. She was wearing black robes that swirled around her even though there wasn’t any wind. Then their eyes locked and she let her head fall back in a laugh.

“Well well, here I am all set to take my retribution and you offer yourself up for the slaughter. Tell me is it desperation or have you just given up?”

“We’re just getting started.” The words were Sam’s but the voice was that of an old still revered god.

The demon turned to fully face him, “Not so helpless as you look then. Pity you couldn’t pick a god that actually had some bite to them.” She flexed her power, and the world gave it shape: a glowing red blade. No extra frills, but then she didn’t need them.

“Kill the others,” she swept a hand out to the demons who still flanked her. “A reward to the person who brings me Crowley’s head. I’ll deal with this one myself.”

The demontroopers seemed only too happy to comply.

Sam took two steps forward, until he was just outside the range of a long lunge, and drew up his blade. He had just enough time to send a silent prayer to Gabriel, love and hope and please get over here like now, Before she lept.

Sam lifted his sword. His feet sank into the ground as he took the blow. She twisted left. Some small pull made Sam step back. They spun around each other. She was fast. He hadn’t expected that, but he still had a greater reach.

Two steps and she had to take three to keep up. Sam knocked her next attack aside, and reversed direction. His turn. Abaddon rocked back, off balance. She still managed to parry the blow, but was forced back to one knee before twisting away.

Sam pulled in a breath as she rose to her feet. There were three steps between them, but Sam was starting to think it wasn’t enough. His heart was pounding, but she looked as unruffled as ever. She had managed, four attacks? Five? And he’d barely managed to strike back once. In a fight where the first hit would probably mean death, Sam didn’t like his odds.

“So it looks like you’re not helpless after all,” She purred. “Good, I’d hate for this to be over too quickly.” She lept into the air again.

Sam changed the game.

Before she could land he pushed out with his off hand. Force and power an invisible strike that she couldn’t dodge. It clearly wasn’t the decisive blow Sam had been hoping for. She spun once in the air before tumbling back to the ground fifty feet away. This time when she got to her feet she wasn’t smiling. Her steps were measured as she started to close the distance, but Sam wasn’t focused on her anymore. He had a new idea.

Sam reached through his connection to the world he’d shaped, and tugged.

On her next step, Abaddon’s foot sank into the earth. She looked down in surprise, then pulled her foot free of the gopher hole with a little more force than necessary. A step later a branch settled over her ankle and she stumbled before she can stop herself.

“You’re only delaying things. Are you that afraid of death? I hadn’t realized Ganesha was a god of cowards.” 

“If I’m alive, I can win.” Sam countered.

She twisted her blade and her foot came free. 

Sam gave up on subtlety. He took a slow breath and on the exhale every stray seed, and blade of grass lifted into the air. Energy filled the air as a thousand tiny missiles twisted around to target the demon. It was like and explosion in reverse. For a moment Sam thought it might have been enough, then the heat washed over him.

Fire burst forth in a twisting cyclone, with abbadon at it’s center. Sam had no illusions about it hurting her, they were as much her power as the body she’d created to interact with this dream world. 

A word, harsh and guttural, made Sam flinch. The sound pulled the fire after it, out across the field, leaving ash in it’s wake. 

Sam dropped to one knee, bringing both arms up to block with every ounce of strength and willpower he had. It felt like he was back in hell.

When he was able to lift his head, Sam’s limbs were shaking and his vision was blurry. The field had turned to ash, black flakes drifting in the air. Abbadon looked unchanged. 

“Not the poorest showing I’ve seen, but you are still far out of your league. You should have waited another century, actually learned to use your godskill before thinking of challenging me. Try to remember that in your next life.”

She lifted her lightsaber casually in one hand, bringing it down in an overhead strike.

Sam looked up at her. He didn’t have the power to block or the energy to dodge, but he damn well wasn’t going to flinch away.

Red light filled his vision…

And shut down.

Her lightsaber had turned off inches above his head.

They both blinked at the weapon in her hand. Sam privately wished he’d thought of that.

“How about you leave the padawan and try me on for size?”

Sam knew that voice. He was pretty sure he was shaking again, but it didn’t matter because he knew that voice.

Gabriel was standing less than twenty away. He was in the same familiar vessel, but instead of worn jeans and his green jacket, he was dressed in white leather and gold armor. A curving ram’s horn helmet adorned his head, six white-gold wings fanned out behind him, and a gilded spear was pointing straight at Abbadon’s chest.

“Word of warning though, I’m twice the man I was, when we last fought.”

Sam caught the green glint in Gabriel’s eye, and couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled up through his chest.

It was him, it was really him, all of him. The Gabriel he’d fallen in love with.Trickster and pagan god and archangel all rolled up into one short blond package.

Abbadon took a half step back, her expression shifting between anger and frustration.

This time it was unquestionably the archangel who spoke, “Run back to Hell demon, and pray I do not follow.”

“This isn’t over,” she snarled, but they both knew it was, at least for now.

In a blink Abbadon was gone. A second later Sam could no longer feel her in his world.

Gabriel caught him as he slumped. “Easy there Sammy, I’ve got ya.”

“I love you.” There was a lot he wanted to say but that summed up most of it. There were tears in his eyes. Gabriel brushed them away.

“Love you too kiddo. And good thing, because that’s the only reason this little reunion worked.”

Sam pawed at Gabriel’s chest until he bent to kiss him softly.

“We should probably make sure the others are okay,” Sam said.

Gabriel nodded, “Here, let me.”

It was like Gabriel was lifting a blanket off his shoulders. Around them the world melted away into an endless white space. Clouds of demon smoke hovered in the air, around the handful of figures with actual human forms.

“All right you lot, scram.” Gabriel glared pointedly at the demons. One by one, then in waves, they popped out of existence, until only five figures were left.

Dean slowly sat up. He was wearing a black suit and pushed a top hat back off his forehead, when it slipped into his eyes. There was red on his chest and for a moment Sam’s heart fluttered, but then he realised it was just Dean’s shirt.

Cas helped him to his feet. He’d gotten a makeover as well, and was now wearing Leather armor in a similar style to Gabriel’s, though in gold and white, rather than green.

“Well, that was certainly impressive,” said the final figure. Crowley was still wearing the suit he normally wore but he had a wreath of olive leaves resting on his temples and gold wings fluttered at his ankles. “Thank you for your assistance and all that but I should be going.” He tipped his head and in a blur he was gone.

“Son of a bitch,” Dean muttered, spinning in a circle to make sure he really was out of sight.

Gabriel nodded, “Yeah, can’t say it’s a bad fit though. Mercury is the greek trickster, but he also gave man currency, god of traders, god of travelers and therefore crossroads. Yeah, he saw his chance and took it.”

“Wait so Crowley is a god now?” Dean sputtered, waving a had at where the demon had stood.

“Might want to look in a mirror before you start throwing stones.” Gabriel’s voice was still light, but it had a hard edge to it.

Dean started to retort but Sam held up a hand. “He’s right.” He closed his eyes, reaching for Ganesha. “Thank you for your help”, he whispered to the god, “But it’s time we go our own ways.” 

Nothing happened.

When Sam opened his eyes, Cas was wearing a stony expression. He exchanged a look with Gabriel. “This can not be undone, can it?”

“No,”Gabriel shrugged, “Well, technically yes. That’s why we’re still here, rather then back on earth. There’s still time. You can choose to go back out there and step up to the plate as gods, or you can die. Well, Sam and Cas can die, you Dean had to make things extra complicated and bond with a death god, but I think I can work around it. If you die before you go back, the god power wont connect to your body. You’ll be brain dead for a while and then go on to heaven. And before you ask, no, no resurrections.” For a moment he was all archangel, “Michael and Lucifer were breaking the rules, i do not intend to follow their example.”

Dean’s jaw set. Cas saw it and sighed quietly before he pushed his shoulders back and nodded.

“Heaven is my home, and my grace is waiting there,” Cas glanced at Gabriel who nodded,”

Sam knew he was trying to make the choice easier on Dean, but Sam wasn’t having it.

“No. I’m not going roll over and die.”

Gabriel met his eyes. “It’ll change you. It might take centuries, but slowly, over time…”

“Only if I let it.”

Gabriel shrugged, conceding the point

“Besides, That means I get centuries to spend with you.” Sam stepped up to Gabriel, putting his hands on the smaller man’s waist, and bending far enough that their foreheads were pressed together.

“Seriously? Come on Sam, how is this any different than the apocalypse?”

“Well, for one, I’m the one in control.” he twisted around to face his brother, “Can’t you feel it? I mean, I know you never said yes, but trust me this is way different.”

Cas was nodding slowly. “The gods of the earth do draw their power from a very different source. I’ll stand with you whatever your choice Dean.” He reached out and took Dean’s hand.

“That’s new,” Gabriel noted.

“It’s a recent development.”

“It’s about time.”

Sam smiled, “just be grateful you weren’t stuck in the bunker with them the past few weeks.”

Dean takes a deliberate breath, “Okay.”


	27. Epilogue

The four of them go over the story once for Bobby, then a second time for Henry, Kevin and Charlie. There are a lot of questions, but most of them are aimed as Cas and Gabriel since they have a better idea of what’s going on.

Sam sits back after a while and watches the prayers to Ganesha float through the air like ribbons of silk. If he focuses he can see each word, who sent it and where they are. It’s not the only difference. He’s not hungry yet and doesn’t think he will be ever again. There’s a contentment that comes with the power in his bones, so different from the way the demon blood had felt.

Dean poofs out of existence at one point. Gabriel had made an off-hand comment about people summoning their gods, and went back to his conversation. Sam had started to worry, but he’s been back a few hours later, hat tipped back and carrying a bottle of top shelf brandy. He’d put a hand on Sam’s shoulder and spoke in a soft choked up voice.

“Sammy, they worship me with booze and pie.”

It had been Sam’s turn to be summoned, in the early hours of the morning. A blessing on a shrine that he gladly gave, accepting the marigolds and sweet rolls he was given in return. The magic was instinctual, but he could sense that it would take time to master.

When he willed himself back to the bunker, Gabriel was in the middle of convincing Cas to raid heaven for his grace. Cas didn’t understand why Gabriel couldn’t just give it to him if he was so set on it, but apparently it had to be a quest, for some reason.

Sam bent to kiss Gabriel on top of his head. “Leave it for the morning. Come to bed with me.”

Gabriel looked up, pausing in the middle of a gesture. “Well, if you insist. You know, neither of us have to sleep anymore.”

“I’d noticed, so are you going to let your brother be and induct me into the ways of godly sex or what?”

Gabriel laughed, but it wasn’t like he was going to say no.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End.
> 
>  
> 
> So like the rest of the stories in this verse, this one tried to build itself into more and I might someday write some snippits about their lives as gods, but for now, this is the end. It's been a roller coaster and thank you to everyone who's been with me this whole time.
> 
> PS. Barron Samedi and the other gods of that pantheon are really honored with alcohol and food, but I don't know any of the rituals so I'm not going to give out bad info, but seriously, check them out, they're a really cool set of gods.


End file.
